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