being in the country...is like living twice for a city-pent me...

This cowshed...the smouldering smoke...
This forest green...small huts...a city-dweller me broke
And ripped me apart, perhaps, with the object
To recast my inner self...so far maligned and faked
By glossy vignettes that hung around me...and the city...

This vast openness meeting up to kiss the sky red
This panoramic view of tombs of the dead...
Punctuating like small pauses on the field...
Really broke my glistening over-protective shield...

And...
And like a colt just set free to run
I plunged into the mustard field with joys reborn
And believe me...dear...I took no back 'U' turn...
I just sped across....
The layers of my accumulated urban moss...
And ran and ran...
As if I was in a marathon...
Miles of greenness I swept true
Being so canopied by the sky real blue...
Miles of memories I just jigged and jagged
Threw away my branded exorbitant rags...
And like the Adam without clothes...
I just followed His superior toes...
Just followed Him blind...
Buoyed by joys of meeting the omniscient...

From a city pent man to the unengaged soul
He how lit fire on my wet heaps of coal...
O how the brief sojourn
To the country, me torn...
And brought me only to Him...His lost son...

How He with Nature worked as a team...
To fill up my dark with dazzling light-beams...
To rekindle all of my undiluted past...
To make me live twice fully recast!