Poetry Archive
Still, I am glad....
The text is presented as written. Line breaks are preserved from the archived source.
See the sun rise from mountains that rear so high,
Rising fast he blazes down from the sky.
Feel the breeze, of summer, blow the hair upon your head,
Feel the heat go rising with the day....
Hot, I am, but glad....
See the raindrops come falling down from up high,
Gently falling they kiss your face when they dry,
Feel the gusts, of monsoon, wet the hair upon your head,
See the waters running down the hills....
Wet, I am, but glad....
Watch the mists come swirling down from the sky,
Thickening grey pools, they form, where they lie,
Feel the winds, of winter, freeze the breath upon your face,
Feel the chill bite in the airs...
Cold, I am, but glad....
This poem belongs to the poetry archive on Chips’nCode. Where surviving legacy material exists, the original title graphic is kept with the poem as part of the record rather than rebuilt into something newer.
Copyright © Manoj Prajwal Bhattaram. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations used with clear attribution, these poems may not be copied, redistributed, adapted, or used to create derivative works without prior written permission.