We would reach the edge of the lake ,a lake dug all night by a young man for love for a princess ,by a moony royal edict. It was a myth that had a cock’s early call before the night ended so princess could not wed the impossible digger.
This is the same moon that had fallen, the one who had watched helplessly a lover turning stone from love.The lake beat the moon on wind. Pale moon splintered on ripples riding slowly on the lake’s old myth.
The moon was once in this lake when it watched a wind grow love . Myth watched the lake’s moon grow.
(Watching the beautiful Nakki lake in Mount Abu ,nestled in the rocks of Aravali mountains)
The Morning is Just a Dream 