It often happens to my deplorable self,
When I feel damned and dead,
When I feel lost –
I just embrace the dark evening sky,
The cold and violent breeze of the dusk
And wait taciturnly 
For the Nature’s message to me;
For a sign of life –
From the macrocosmic brethren of the trees,
Rocks, birds, rain, ants,
Cats, dogs and moonlight.

The wind blows violently against me,
My bosom cries in dismay,
Ripping apart;
The gloom of the cold twilight maddens me,
My incendiary soul gets wounded,
Falling apart.

As I succumb to the Nature’s atrocities
Projected against me, 
The rustling of the banyan leaves
Pat my emotions and comfort me;
The pond heron and myna’s sounds blend
Into a rhythm that reminds me of my 
Younger self, what I was many years ago.

I desire my lost innocence,
The purity of boyhood, which I bore with me,
Until I fell into the trap of being prideful – 
Prideful of growing up, indulging into infidel love,
Lying, hurting others and being hurt,
Pursing unreal things, 
Mating with transient happiness.

The pond’s serenity, humming of the woods,
The garden’s blossom, the rattlesnake’s rattling
Echoes the sweet memories of the past;
I look around me, I smile, I laugh in ecstasy of
Something that doesn’t exist anymore.

The children’s voices echo from the stone fences,
The sound of the past presents itself and booms
Into my subconscious ears, in the tunes of 
My yore that recalls the merriment I had lost.

When I’m pensive,
The nature plays its game on me –
It washes off my lamentable thoughts
And cleanses the scars off my heavy heart,
By showing me dreams, once which weren’t.