It blooms in spite of shadow,
lure of dismal, dreary and dark, 
where grey clouds
caress
with soft, ethereal light
as I meandered and curled
through
a long and winding path. 

It seemed almost natural
and all the while I kept my eyes on pale
and nodding grass,
the sweet conviction tasted as honey 
and milk,
as strength of majestic mountains, rivers
and wind
offered themselves to me. 

I carried a primrose
and fled
upon the arrival of mulberry dusk,
in my palm
I held what I thought to be essence of life
in the universe.

 

Photo credits: Pinterest 

A childhood memory in Muzaffarabad, Kashmir ❤️

Posted for Weekend Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads

 

And Posted on the poetry pantry @ Poets United