Jul 062017

Native Land


Ms. Neelam Dadhwal


Dotted lines, double lines, flags, colored regions

blurring altogether,

lands in drought, trees with barren stumps,

wind hanging through upside down.


My native land is not a dream

though it seems to be

toils of years and sparkling eyes

among breeze and bees

where stones carved from hills

bear my footsteps and gurgling stream

of rain sharp bent for noise,

a guardian angel of happiness and trust.



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