About ten in the morning, the trees are
Still lazying under the thick foggy veil.
The young sprouting leaves peep through
Like the hanging jukas from earlobes.
The early buzz for the daily grind
of Autos, the picking up traffic,
Children reaching out their schools,
Is like attuning for an imminent concert.
Stepping out as usual into the street
That looks as usual, I thought:
Though I seemingly walk here,
I am walking, in fact, not at all here.
I cross many paths once more
I crossed once before;
I am pilgrimaging and returning
Time and again to some ancient rendezvous.
It’s an ordinary morning in a very ordinary street.
But no sooner than I turned my eyes within,
Oh! People from hoary past and trodden paths
had unveiled a world of their own for me.
.
Vadrevu Chinaveerabhadrudu.
స్పందించండి