Woods and the country road passing by it

Oft when I chance to see
Woods and the country road
Going by it, how I think of idyllic setting,
A road to take not to go into the woods
But just going by it , reaching a lake
Perhaps where in our childhood of tales
Told by grannies, we had oft met princes
And princesses and their curious journeys, there we had met with seven dwarfs perhaps and snow white,

Oft when I chance to see
How I am taken to that age
When there were evenings to gather
At a hall, after the day's plays
And to listen with wide eyed wonders
Stories from granny, who would chew
Betel leaves and fan  us with her
handheld implement  made of palm leaves and would take us to a different world, altogether,
We would think of all the characters
She would have told us about,
They would come alive in our dreams
We would hear horse's hoofs ploughing through the road, owl's hoots too would
Come to us and we would go places
With granny,

Oft when I see woods and the country road
I think of tales that come unhindered
To my mind and with broken bits of them,
Like filling a drawing board with zigzaw puzzles , with those fragments of tales
How I make a picture complete,
Of our childhood, our grannies, their stories, their memories,

They all come together how making me understand life as a mere passage
Of ages, of generations,

How a painted scene become strongly evocative, carrying so many things,
Of wonder and excitement,
As I look at woods and the country road
Passing by it, reaching perhaps a lake of our childhood.


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