Outside the window,
across the Lake,
the ochre-red sun
turns the blue mountain gold,
the dappled sky,
lazes languorously for a while
and turns crisp blue .
A flock of mountain birds
floats freely, dips and soars,
tracing graphic patterns
in the unblemished sky.
A pair of rhododendron trees, next door
bloom with ruby red flowers,
(How he loved the flowery rhododendron drink !)
On the winding dirt track little below
a lone mule trudges wearily
with cans of milk and bundles of greens,
led by a sleepy, scrawny teenager
in over-sized coat and cap!
Behold ! The sky turns foggy, white vapory clouds,
like ethereal spirits, enter
unannounced through the open window.
Time for more cups of spiced tea
Such beauty, such bliss!
We dwell in the beauty of moment,
We sit in silence, sit in peace,
My house of magic moments,
perches on the edge of memory, still.
May this house live longer,
Till i die!