By: Pramod Rastogi

A lover of nature and its shifting shades,
I climb the winding heights,
Pausing now and then
To speak with the mountains,
Their faces clean and austere
As I rise along their slopes.

They listen without judgment,
Sinking to the roots of my unrest,
While narrow trails guide me
Toward their patient summits.

The wind, brushing their stony cheeks,
Leans close and murmurs in my ear;
For a moment I am lifted,
Immersed in a quiet, weightless joy.

The child within me stirs awake
As I wander through a garden
Beyond the restless city,
Where birds and blossoms dwell
Absorbed in their untiring zest.

I linger with the birds,
Their quicksilver notes ascending
Like waves from a hidden sea,
Bright with unspent delight,
Spilling into the open air.

Flowers answer in silent color,
Unfolding their tender vows to light.
Their hues awaken in me
A gentle longing
To hold my lover’s hand.

By the lakeside I sit still.
Even emptiness begins to glow
As the birds’ distant calls
Weave their timeless music.

Beneath the deepening canopy
Twilight lays its tender shade upon me.
In that fragrant hush of being,
I close my eyes.

My weary soul grows light,
And in the drifting quiet
My unspoken syllables rise,
Carried skyward
On the breath of inner peace.