Saturday, September 16, 2017

Lost sights

Ripples of rice fields
Swaying in the wind
Alĺuring glimpses
Of lush rivers and valleys

It wud take me months to walk

And now it takes barely two days
As hills as wide as countries
Flash in and out of my vision
In a matter of hours

It was not meant to be this way

The awe i would have felt
Upon finally arriving
At a lake shrouded in mystery
At the holy home of a fabled goddess
On top of a difficult mountain

After drinking in the flowers,
The trees, the grass,
The sounds, the sights,
The healing herbs and wild fruits,
The songs, the stories, the people
The blue sky, lit up from an unlit ground
And the very air of the rarest kind

Was not meant to be diluted
By photographs
Videos
And hurried sightseeing through
Tinted windows

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