My Village — Latest Part

I was sad. I didn’t know why I was sad. I believe the genuine sadness is when you don’t know the reason. Perhaps it originates from your subconscious. Life moves forward and we cannot stop its flow. I like the way its flow originates from the mountains and flows down to the valleys, where the flowers hand over themselves completely to this flowing stream. You don’t know whether it is water dancing or the flower? Water flows rapidly because it is in a hurry to become a river. Ever seen the canals merge with the river? What a beautiful music it creates! See the stream meeting a river and you will understand the meaning of ecstasy. The stream kissed the river and the wide river embraces it with grace. Soon the stream loses all its identity, as if it had never existed. Nonetheless, deep in the river it sometimes recalls its identity and misses the roses that stuck in the bushes when it was gone. Those flowers might be making us sad as well. Despite being lost in the river’s width, our unconscious keeps sending us the flowers that call us.

I go to my village whenever I feel such sadness to connect with nature and to find those flowers that were stuck in the wild bushes.The crying flowers are often found by me and I give them to water again.They smile and wave at me in return. My gloomy soul starts dancing to their music as they enjoy their bliss

Prior to entering my village, I am greeted by the shepherd of my village. He welcomes me from afar with his folk songs. Shepherds all over the world sing as a common trait.They sing from the depths of their souls.The beauty of their songs comes from their closeness to nature. Whenever I hear their songs, I feel a deep, rare sorrow. A lonely poet in another corner of the world is touched by their sorrow that travels to distant lands.

My day is spent in the fields, getting refreshed my soul, and then coming back to pollute it again.

Whenever I have such sadness, I go to my village to connect myself with the nature, to find those flowers which were stuck in the wild bushes. I often find those crying flowers and hand them over to water again. They smile and wave at me in return. I feel their bliss, and my gloomy soul starts swinging with the waves.

The first man I meet before entering my village is the shepherd of my village. His folk songs welcome me from the distance. The common trait of all the shepherds in this entire world is that they sing. They sing songs from their soul. The closeness to nature gives them the beauty of songs. The sorrow that I feel in their songs is very rare and deep. Their sorrow travels to the distant lands and touches the heart of a lonely poet in another corner of the world.

I spend my day in the fields, get refreshed my soul and then come back to pollute my soul again. This is how I’m linked with my village.