We are lovers of mountains and streams
In beauty, we imitate and scatter the seeds
Beauty of the soul makes the soil fertile
Purity begets beauty, In purity, we seek!
We are wonderers of nature & Her plans
Limited we know, either Her or our self
Few seeds sprout, of many, choice or chance;
Know not, whether all those that sprouts, yet grow?
We bind not, with the expectations.
We wield not, pangs of attachments.
We wean not, weary of bigotry or hate.
We let the creepers grow, but not to cripple us!
We learnt we are not perfect, not sincere;
We wasted many words, instead of practice;
We look at Mother Nature, in awe for help;
In love, she gives life & death, choices eternal!
