The Himalayan Bard

Have you met a poet?

Whose verses were born midst the solemnity of pines

In the whirlpool of rivers

In the stillness of the bluest sky

Within not a sound not a quiver

Where every single drop of rain played a different melody over tin roofs of a wood studded attic

Where clouds of all shapes and sizes brought a new inspiration every single time they would pass the window

Where rivers wouldn't stay the same

Reminding us about the subtle ways how life changes

- carried away on floating logs of desire

entering new terrains as it flows through life’s highs and lows..

Where one could just sit for hours by the fireplace and see adjacent chimneys warming hearts and homes

Where the sun appears silently from the gaps between hills and every hour of the day is noticed till it dissolves in the purple horizon

Where natural offerings filled hungry baskets and wild berries grew without being planted

Where courage runs in the legacy of upbringing and holiness is bestowed in the music of ancient drums and pipes

Where god's praises are sung in faith not with fear filling the air

Where the skin is covered and soul lies bare

Teaching people of true love and care

Have you met the Himalayan bard?

Who writes of beauty, pain and pride

of solitary human passion

of glory and courage, heart and mind

of emotions that matter but may seem old fashioned

Where tenacity dissolves with the morning sun

Becoming sharper with the fading blindness of dusk

And the moon brings the promise of a new dream every night

Where the natural springs are still pristine

And you can walk barefoot on grass so green

Where flowers that are grown- a martyr wreath they adorn

Where sacrifice and sacrament are woven intricately in the fabric of life

Where a lifetime could be spend to decipher the unnatural mysteries of the forests

Where morals of love, charity and hope- are told in the form of an anecdote.

Have you met this poet?