When My Five Senses Awakened A Morning in the Misty Hills of Kerala

Last night, beneath a velvet sky,

I watched a thousand fireflies fly,

No conductor’s hand, no measured beat,

Yet every flicker danced so sweet.

Each tiny lantern found its place,

A fleeting spark of heaven’s grace.

The evening breeze came soft and slow,

With whispered secrets only flowers know.

A hundred fragrances filled the air,

But jasmine’s sweetness lingered there.

Among the blossoms, rich and rare,

My favorite fragrance found me there.

The fan fell silent, the night grew deep,

A heavy blanket embraced my sleep.

No restless thoughts, no hurried mind,

Just nature’s peace, so hard to find.

And somewhere between the stars and trees,

My weary soul found gentle ease.

Then morning came on silver feet,

With mist and mountains softly meet.

The hills wore veils of pearly white,

Still holding whispers of the night.

The trees stood tall, the earth lay still,

As heaven breathed upon the hill.

From neighboring temples, prayers arose,

While church bells and sacred songs composed

A hymn that traveled through the air,

Joined by farmers speaking their prayers.

Different voices, different ways,

Yet one Creator received their praise.

And then the birds began to sing,

A thousand notes on morning’s wing.

No written score, no practiced art, Yet every song could touch the heart.

I watched them rise into the blue, So sure of where their journeys drew.

How do they know which way to go?

What secret paths do their small hearts know?

With fearless wings they greet the skies, While I stood watching, wonder in my eyes.

Perhaps they know what I must learn 

To trust the path at every turn.

A cup of homemade tea in hand,

I watched the mist embrace the land.

Its warmth, its fragrance, rich and sweet,

The cool earth resting beneath my feet.

The breeze caressed my waking skin,

And something stirred so deep within.

My eyes beheld creation’s art,

Its music settled in my heart.

My nose knew jasmine’s tender grace,

Warm tea brought comfort to this place.

The morning breeze, so cool and light,

Awakened senses lost to night.

My Panchendriyas, all five,

Reminded me that I’m alive.

Not merely breathing, passing days,

But living fully in countless ways.

For what is wealth, what is delight,

If we cannot feel God’s morning light?

And then, without a warning sign,

The words returned, the words were mine.

The silence that had held my pen

Had gently opened up again.

No force, no struggle, no demand,

Just poetry flowing through my hand.

Perhaps the soul must sometimes rest,

Before its hidden songs are blessed.

Perhaps the heart must learn to be

As still as mountains, wild as sea.

And when we cease to chase the rhyme,

God gives the words in His own time.

So here I sit, with tea and prayer,

With misty hills and jasmine air.

The fireflies have gone to sleep,

Their dancing lights are mine to keep.

The birds have taken to the sky,

And I no longer wonder why.

For something beautiful has come to me,

A gift no human eye can see.

My heart feels whole, my spirit free,

And life has found its song in me.

I came to these hills seeking healing,

But found much more than I was seeking.

I came with silence in my soul,

And woke to find my spirit whole.

And somewhere between the fireflies of last night

and the mist of this morning,

God returned my poetry to me.