It blooms in spite of shadow,
lure of dismal, dreary and dark,
where grey clouds
with soft, ethereal light
as I meandered and curled
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
as strength of majestic mountains, rivers
offered themselves to me.
I carried a primrose
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