Today I heard the cooing of a dove… in the same melodious sing-song way as that blessed hour when I had heard one three years ago in that Winter’s morn… The chilly mists rose up the towers, with a vague warning, signaling ‘twere better one kept the windows shut; for one’s submission unto… Continue reading THE PRINCESS AND THE DOVE
Let the trees rest now and let down their leaves - these brown burdens are not meant for them to keep - but to be carried far away with the wintry breeze, before they wake and stretch their branches in Spring, so hush now, and let them sleep; hush now.... and let them sleep... ©… Continue reading Ishaism – November
Inspiration is the bird that alights on the mountain of the mind, adding ripples of music, to the flowing rivulets of thought... © Isha Garg
The road was lit in a wild flower frenzy - a fray of ferns wayward and hapless, yellow trees rose in a tumultuous melee with battered rocks fragmented and strewn like shrapnel. Crisp cracks housed the dust in the grey concrete; dry buttresses boasted of mossy branches; browning bushes sneaked up suddenly like bandits, as… Continue reading The Wilderness
Don’t dare to delve so deep, dear child, into the dark woods that you cannot find your way back… The woods are green and glorious, yes, but the woods are grim and ghastly too. The tenacious woods will trap you within themselves, closing in on you, climbing up your very toes, causing you to tumble… Continue reading The Wild Woods
