The dusk descends, like a burglar, with silent footsteps.
Specks of light flit amidst the mammoth leaves of the Teak.
The thick clusters of flowers shine like burnished gold and copper,
forging a ring of fire, a portal to other worlds.
This is where glowworms make love…
Luminescent globules spring from nowhere –
Flickering, hopping, twisting, twirling,
waltzing, jiving and pirouetting,
till their bodies melt into each other,
Becoming pure ecstasy in motion.
A coy moon slips among the dark clouds.
The lonely frog sighs, whines and moans,
waiting listlessly for the midnight showers.
Shatarupa's Descendants 