By Dakshatasri L
On a quiet day dawned by the morning zen,
A fresh and soft wind did call.
He wandered under the radiant sun,
And told me tales of places great and small.
“As a wanderlust, passionate and free,
I’ve journeyed through every season—
Spring’s hue, Summer’s glee,
Autumn’s whispers and Winter’s white glisten.
In quaint hamlets during the quiet Spring,
The earth is so fresh and rich.
Flowers kissed by dew were pearls on a string,
As the birds sang their heart at a sweet pitch.
Yet in the stillness, shadows leer,
Twisting the joy to misery, my dear.
Then in the mystic beauty of Summer forests,
There’s a sweet wild call from every side.
The rustle of the leaves chorused,
From trees standing tall and wide.
But in the shadows of the magnific trees,
Whispers of worry may lurk in the breeze.
Then I ventured to the bustling city,
To experience Autumn’s blaze.
At night they’re, oh, so pretty,
The tall towers creating a road maze.
Yet amidst the hustle, I noticed few,
Who have nothing but fabric to chew.
Slowly, snowflakes began to fall,
Delicately, with Winter’s grace.
I saw the air filled with snowballs,
And windows painted with haze.
But beneath the crunchy snow,
Lonely hearts shiver, longing for the Sun’s glow.
Change is natural as the seasons as they play,
A simple truth we must face.
As night follows the day
Flows life’s steady pace."
As the tale ended, a new path was uncovered.
“I’ll explore,” I said, “this world of every colour!”