A Call from the Mountains
He has stationed himself
at ten thousand feet, high
over a peak in the Himalayas.
His call echoes and reechoes
deep down the valley, mingles
with the flowing Ganges -
adolescent yet, and energy-filled.
I heard his call, a faint whisper,
like a mother speaking to her newborn babe,
or the morning sun nudging a sleeping bird.
It forced me to remove the boulders,
fill the potholes, straighten the pass,
and ascended towards his temple -
at the peak high in the Himalayas.
The serpentine path,
now six feet wide but still
ten thousand feet long,
carries me over a horseback,
my ears try to listen to his voice,
his folklore,
drowned in the noise of tourists' chat.
--
c s shah
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