Saturday, 10 April 2010

the secret

thus with a smile and a promise
you take me down the hills from deep woods
into an open meadow,
where graze eighteen cows, their butter-bright sheen,
luminous on the dew-wet green,
sunlit distilled still,
of all times gone and all times yet to come,
and as we pause breathless, you tell me,
don't you hear, a sound?



Prabhakar said...

A pastoral scene transcending time, with an inkling of a momentous sight.

P. Venugopal said...

i am following the threads of a longer poem, Prabhakar, with a mother-lover-guide presence i feel around me nowadays, on some kind of journey i know not the destination of.