A Ride to Heritage
Third in the Write Fourteen Beautiful Lines Poetry Contest
One day I rode my bicycle out to the countryside,
where, the air was still, and trees stood tall in a row.
Their scent, a fragrance I had known long ago,
made me ponder of our fading culture and worried.
Resting on a rock beneath a sprawling tree,
I saw a maiden dressed in ancient garb.
She captivated me and led me to an ancient land
where people welcomed me with open eyes.
The maiden stepped outside,surrounded by friends,
and danced - so enchanting and graceful.
Then an old man clad in robes of old, appeared.
He said, "That maiden is your ancestor, revered,"
But when I woke up, my people stood close by,
and all the vision faded into the sky.
Copyright © Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh | Year Posted 2025
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