The falling sky and
the hushed clouds,
Dedicated squirrels and
the birds loud.
A confused bamboo groove and ruthless grass free,
The zealous foreplay of
the creeper and the Sal tree.
Pebbles like tired
pilgrims lay at rest
A tailor's attempt to build
the nicest nest
An upset myna caught a
drifting bud,
The air it smells of fresh
wet mud.
Wind whistling away and
the busy bees.
The glazed slopes and the
moth-eaten leaves.
The hectic setting and the
restless hills,
And through it all,
the valley rests still.
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