Here in some archaic past
we, as shepherds, had wandered far,
and when the winter passed
came again to gather
tufts of wool that was caught
between thorns and bushes,
from the season last.

After ages thence, by chance,
we cross paths,
linger in the same meadows, the same haunts,
still in search of the tufts of wool
gathered and kept in store for us,
unsullied by the winds and storms.

Sushama Karnik

 Imagecourtesy +Lilium Candidum




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