Of return

the grass greens more

tender in my eyes

the earth soft and silky

spreads a path

of no promises

yet the call



looming large

an ancient dwelling

a few trees

and some birds

then the rains

and the promise

of an old friend dear

but mostly an iota

of doubt and fear

of being consumed

of being enveloped

of no return

of thereafters

yet the call

powerful deep from within

rises every second

the sweet promises

of childhood, dreams and spirits

of trees and scents and clear skies



the rise of the question

ah! time,you be the guide

I, your humble follower

dear universe,

fold me in your arms

hold me close

in life, living as dead

or in death itself

the returns are sweet

the hopes are sweeter

till then



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