“Have any one seen my beloved..?”

“Have any one seen my beloved..?”

I asked to the wind on the pastures and sheep in the meadow.

They all looked at me with bewildered eyes.

With question marks filled ‘is it wise?’

I touched on the bark of a long forgotten tree.

So old and cracked its wounds I could see.

May be my nails were so long and sharp..

The tree began to bleed from the bark in a snap

The sap kept pouring like a cascade of life

As if it gushed from a gash by a knife.

It filled the air with a mystic scent

The scent of camphor: long preserved.

Soon it filled the land I stood

The fragrant sap from bleeding wood

Lo, I heard a cry  upon
In mountain lap a baby born

Daughter of clouds and mountain breeze

And they called her baby rain-amaze

Eyes of silver blue she had

And hair so black from the cloud

She seemed to have a light buried

Deep inside her heart timid

She smiled to flash her shiny teeth

There arose a lightning deep

Its rays…drew pictures on the sap..

Hues of heart, ah... It did map

Lines of gold with silver dots

And in its midst the face I dote