Dear friend of my heart,
It has been more than a month since I got back home from the high mountains, where the air is dusty and thin and the sky is an azure spread, with soft white clouds to fluff your gaze… the light of the day is piercing though, there in Leh. There isn’t much to say today. I would much rather share a few pictures with you. And before that this little poetic-prose that happened one early morning up there.
Oh sweet dew, wash my morning too. Upon you my wandering gaze finds her resting place… I shy away from yesternight’s sensual embrace, and wonder what it would be like to be surrounded by your mystery. Oh morning dew, do you tender to just a special few? Well, all around me… in the bare mountains where I found me, you do surround me. Oh sweet dew, you did wash my morning too… Vagrant fantasies of a heart that beats to your fluid firmament, I cannot but die again, only to find you myself surrounded by again. Oh sober honey-kissed morning dew… and even as I hide from the darker aspirations of this yesternight, I sigh with your fall, from your leaf to it all… my dearest morning dew, I do sincerely feel, the world is now all new… I ask the friend of my heart, if he’s also been listening to you sing, of what sun secretly told you… what simple poetry you drew, such that my weary heart has now shed his weary skin, and once again oh darling dew, you washed my world anew…
…a few photographs. Kashmir to Leh.
And a photograph of me… it’s too beautiful to not share… so…
I really don’t want to say much about the experience. At the moment I am much more into music than into words… so I would leave you with the images for now… perhaps some other day the stories will take different forms and emerge more beautifully than they possibly could right now. Eager to hear from you.