On a Cold Night

Maybe when the ways fade hopelessly on a cold night, I chase the north breeze peeking in my window It has the gelid of morn dew in Autumn and the tales of voyages, whispering to me, Relishing in the chirp Of a nightingale and cicadas -I gaze up at the night sky, near to the shivering moon, I chase the Saptarishi, seeking to the Pole star- I lead to the melodic shore, far away from the wailing cities the ocean recited me a poem, the boulders croon along with her