Only roses know the best of love
And lips know the saddest lies
So do I of a weird dream
That bleeds but never dies
The temple bears the deeds and sins
And the rainbow bears the rays
So do I of an autumn morn
That shines but never stays
The faces hide the nicest soul
And wings hide a deadly flight
So do I of a fallen leaf
That severs but never loses delight
Only kids listen to unknown tales
And hearts listen to a sigh
So do I to the mourner's dirge
That surrounds but is never nigh
Trees whisper to new-born birds
And dews whisper to aging night
So do I to my own reasons
That revolt but never fight
The winter walks to season's seed
And the spring walks its green
So do I to the Holy Cross
That beckons but never lets me in
Hello Saibal.
ReplyDeleteIs "Expedition Airaavat- In the Shadow of The Celestial Elephant" penned by you? I read up to end of day 1 and thoroughly enjoyed the experience--felt like I'm back in the mountains, albeit, on a trickier trek:) Will be back to savour more. Want to enjoy one day at a time to let the images and words work their magic:)
No, ma'am..it was written on my trekkers journal by Ashutosh of Delhi...that's "wandering souls"--featuring travelogues of different trekkers...it died of indifference....mine is 'footsteps'...that too died of quicksand...
ReplyDeleteI find it as quizzing to spend this wet evening to infer how could this old dampening poem take to such a prospective world of travelling in the mountains...
Regards,