Searching Nostalgia
The blue hills on hazy horizon cascaded down
the emerald inclines of rhythmic undulations,
shaping the contours of the harmonic hamlet
where my endearing home was cradled once.
The pristine panorama of clouds spread silent
on the curvature of canvas of the cerulean sky
where my childhood joy soared to great height
with the colorful kites I so much loved to fly.
A calm brook gliding with glistening liquid pearls,
flowed with flamboyant show of silvery splendor,
bedecked our sprawling house with ornate garland
made of embracing loop of mesmerizing meander.
I saw my rainbow tinged paper boat glide smooth,
its course tracking the silent current’s tortuous trail.
On it I perceived to a distant dreamland unknown
my mariner mind with teenage fantasy used to sail.
The boat sank in the whirlpool of a sudden flood,
string-snapped kites flew away in surge of storm.
Rising from ruins I was an uprooted defoliated tree,
turning to a drift wood, in nostalgia I search them.
July 10, 2019
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