If a river had ears, they would’ve heard
songs of the clouds and the rain
floating in the breeze above oceans

If a river had ears, they would bring me
stories told by gurgling, shrinking glaciers
imploding in warming streams

If a river had ears, the waters would know
all the secrets of dolphins and mahseer
it would play the scores of a whale’s song

If a river had ears, they would be blocked
and, when the waves hit the banks, the river
losing its balance forgets the course 

If a river had ears, those would be pierced
their small holes plugged with white pearls
stolen from an oyster’s shell 

Some rivers have ears
like ones flowing through Kashmir,
with their dainty drooping lobes,  
pierced by bullets. Robbed of their
red-threaded golden dejhors,
the ears echo of unheard miseries.