Mountains

By Shweta Chaudhary

And again I lost my cease,

to cascading deodar trees;

shooting, trenching to sky leap

and where the breeze touches me

to soothe the plain's heat,

where the sun sometimes kissed

and then again it sweeps;

into the passing clouds' creed,

where the mountains hide

in nature's green,

and there I heard a thrush cooing,

retrieving some cluster of memories

that lay in my heart buried!

By Shweta Chaudhary