The hushed silence and the winter chill,
not a ripple stirred as I rowed the boat.
With a cat and a dog, I plied to float,
to reach the mysterious castle behind the hill.

My friends, my ancestors watch me go
with the benediction without uttering a word.
The morning air, calm, silent, yet like a sword
pierce the heart and the river holds her flow.

The houses on the coastal line,
the smoke from the chimneys yet asleep,
the inmates aware of the breathing deep
that God alone can feel of the light divine.

On one such morning, the young man left
In search of horizons shining in the mist.

Dec. 20 2916   Sushama Karnik.
Originally shared by Tamriko Pasjuk - 2 comments
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