Nidhi Katoch blog

It was an early winter morning. I took a walk over the hill that I use to see from the window of my room. My mind was clouded with thoughts of future like the mist concealed the pines and oaks in her arms. The face of sun had been veiled by the clouds. The melody of water spring and the voice of nightingale spreaded all over the mountains. There came shepherds and their flock who had made their way to the lower hills. The chilling wind started playing with my hair. Some birds were still in their habitats, while some had already flied to the warmer place. Pine's branches moved slowly and slowly as if he was speaking with his brothers cedar and oak in secret language of silence. The road was narrow and the fresh pour of dew during the dawn had made it more slippery. My agitated heart started singing... I'm sitting by the cascade water beneath, The thoughts of upcoming winters are haunting me. Would the walls of my heart able to fight cold winds, Would my body resist  

I wrote this poem for a bird that has become part of my evening walks. I believe that we both share some strange relationship. We try to solve unanswered mysteries of life and questions and insecurities about future. Oh little black bird!  You arrive with the twilight  and always rest on this old dry tree despite the forest full of greens;  You sit here for a while  And keep on sinking in whirlpool of thoughts  before going to your home; The wrench in your heart and scruples of your mind your silent voice and  moment of solace; Oh pensive bird without a song! Are you mourning about the things  You wished to do but didn't? Or is this the moment of introspection  for you  to perceive the mysteries of life? With the arrival of  eye kissing moon light  you make your flight with the explanation of your questions, But you will come tomorrow and forever to this old dry tree  with the same questions  having diffe