The icicles hanging tall,
touching the windowsill,
the lineage forming myriad shapes
inching close to me,
from somewhere up in the skies
and the shroud of white ice
covering the horizons
in a splendor beaconing life

I craned my neck
through the barriers and the cascades
looking for signs of wisdom
an inspiration to write some verse
and then I saw the triangular combed feet
screaming its existence
and it amazed me
of the resilience of creatures
wandering in oblivion
for reasons treasured in the wild

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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