Ode to the Nilgiris

Antelopes chase each other

Antlers of divine design

The curves of the path

cuts through my chest with a pang

The forest is ferocious; aging better than wine.

I hear nothing

But the excited trumpet of the elephants

But the water splashing in the stony crooks

The crack of twigs by squirrels

And the lively brooke

I wish I could dive in it

and flow with its swift along

Sway with the enraged waves

and go where no eyes have ever laid upon

To swim in soil deeper than me

To emerge softer than the moss covered trees

To become the water and rain

To flow and be one with the sea

I thirst for the Blue Hills

An evergreen ocean

Breathing through the forest

The breeze whistles in my ears

and each drop of dew greets me

The moss maps itself on my palms

Soft and love

My lungs welcome the citrus sweet scent

healing my heart better than a balm.

A sense of purity unchecked; fresh and serene

I come home from the city of smoke

This sphere emraces me fully

I am the cloud

I become the mist.

The mountains are sleeping far and wide

Their breaths, the cool wind pleasant to my nose and ears

They are my beloved, I come for a tryst

Healing every wound pure and clear

My pain is healed

As the water gushes over my scrapes

Cleaning my heart

My cuts are sealed.

The vibrant hamlets welcome me

I am tiny under the gigantic goergous grey sky

Which I see through small windows between the mighty branches

as I savour the warm tea

The quiet calls to my nerves

the scent embraces my nose

The rain drops fall in love with my face

And the moss marries my toes

I see the clouds below

The green of the leaves

leaves me wanting more

Reminding me of my lovers

Whose temper is compassionate

like the forest embracing the water's flow

Of all the places I have loved

each holds a piece of my heart.

But somewhere in the deepest greenest woods of Niligiri

Lies its largest part.

If Wordsworth had seen these

His heart would have lain with me

He would have left the Lake Districts

His words would have painted every Blue tree

But, I am his spiritual descendent,

A poet, an artist,

a daughter of the sea

And now, a child of the Nilgiris;

That piece of my heart belongs to thee.

~ Aazka