Past the emerald lawn,
pearled with dew drops
Beyond the weather-beaten
picket fence
Lies a narrow well-trodden
trekking trail
Lazily snaking into the
forest
A path I amble on every
morning
The beckoning tree-line
is the gateway
To the primeval dense
temperate woods
The hush here has its
own cacophony
Red, blue and yellow
flashes from the tops
The resplendent trees
are playing holi*
Colors they hide in
their thick foliage
Take feathery wings and
make chirping sounds
Greens sieve the
sunlight, turn it to gold dust
Glitters glides, slips
through your open fingers
I sit, soak the peaceful
tranquillity
Wish to grow roots too,
live here forever.
Holi-Festival of colors