I yearn to be there, where I’m not,
That beaten course, I’d love to trot,
A downy green bed, soft to my feet
I lie down upon, under the blue sheet,
The fleeting cotton, above my head,
That peace when you can hear your breath,
A soft warm glow, touching my cheeks,
A golden globe, dazzling upbeat.

Droplets of mist on my lashes and brows,
Whispering wind through the trees and it’s boughs,
The fog of my breath meets the steam of my Chai,
Reminiscing those moments I let out a sigh..

I crave to walk under the fatherly shades,
Of towering mountains with white plume as capes,
Be cheered by clapping of river that flows,
And greeted by bleats of sheep and goats. 

I long to see, those fairy tale bends,
Undulating trails, that don’t seem to end,
Filtering rays, from Cypress and Pines,
That enchanting forest is very much my shrine.

Green and warm or white and cold,
Layers and shades of beauty it beholds,
My spirit goes soaring but calms my mind, 
How is my mother, ever so kind?

Her sight, her smell, her sound, her hold,
A drug to my heart and food for my soul,
Curled down in her lap like a foetus in a womb,
It felt I was lost but now I am back home.

– Composed by Shaily Singh Panwar (RougePouts)

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