Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table
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Into the jungle wanders a path
lazily snaking its way
Amid lush foliage that glistens
under the sun-kissed breeze.
It meanders off towards
A hillock that stands a way off,
As if aloof in its demeanor,
Reclusive in its habit.
The overhanging boughs
Covered with moss and lichen
Swoop down trying to wrap
It, in an embrace.
To the soft chirping of the
Birds that sing at dawn and dusk
The path ambles on forward
Trying to reach somewhere.
