Melodies Guiding My Destination Poem by Soumili Karmakar

The trees were singing near the castle;
The pastel colour of the sky
blended with a jilt of tassel,
The enchanted light loved all the seven seasons,
Winter nights were bowing with golden gems,
And we were appreciating their gentleness.


The hill I prayed to reach;
The era was found
After setting the museum
With all the slightest colours left on my painting brush
Were the reasons of your cherry blush.
The destination whispered in my ears ever, since I was a child
Calling me to return home,
Missing me as I went lone.
Seemed kinder than anything else in my entire life.

Your eyelashes have bended down;
Looking at the flowing stream
The lined up rocks held around.
I thought about the angelic spirits revolving their wands and casting their magical spells on you
The hazel colour of your eyes were found every where,
My lips smiled, even though you were no where.

Pansies and violas were speaking among themselves;
Reciting poems beautifully
They planned to write stories about the colourful butterfly.
Radiation of beauty sitting at ease
Slowly flying in the rhyme of the soothing breeze.
Conscious about their wings,
Felt happy when they saw me bringing a flower ring.

From tens of thousands of years the mellows are looked after;
By the sun and moon
By the wind and rain.
Heavenly tenderness mixed with tornadoes
Couldn't destroy the garden of the whole blossoming mellow
The kaleidoscopic light enlightened on them
The purple light still stayed
Stars, as eyes of the world stood there being amazed.

I travelled through every lane,
Sat on the wet grass at the end.
A museum of you was build in my heart
The birds asked me:
"What's prettier their heart, their chirping, or their colour? "
I replied " the sky with her little eyes shining infinitely forever".

In the park I saw them playing hide and seek,
A million and one times
I thought about the moon hiding behind those pine trees
How the half moon shone without being a whole
I thought about myself,
Even though cracks can be watered
If we pray for the gentle rain not to behold.