The gentle breeze is humming

a song unknown

like an echo coming from beyond;

I move my fingers in the air

trying to produce the seven notes of music;

The twilight sky sings to me

Bhimpalashi –

A raga I learned in childhood,

Reminding me of the truth awaiting

to unfold, with the golden hour

awakening

the story to be written.

(This post is a part of BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026)

(This poem is part of my A to Z poetry series titled, ‘EarthSong.’ Read the other poems here.)