Poetry Archive
Where My Heart Lives
The text is presented as written. Line breaks are preserved from the archived source.
A mossy cushion floor,
Pillars of soft emerald,
Holding up a dome of green
On the edge of the button grass meads.
A misty snort, shuffle, and crunch
Marks a wombat out to lunch.
Rotund shadows hop through the boles,
Spiny cushions roll along grassy folds.
A currawong fixes you with an icy stare;
The native hen, about humans, does not care.
The silence fills with birdsong sweet,
As sunbeams turn the vista red, gold, and green.
O’er this decade, here I have come often,
Marking the start of a journey ne’er forgotten.
The track leads from my door to the mountains steep,
And over them to sleeping waters deep.
This land of stunted trees and grassy moors
Is filled with the vagaries of nature’s moods,
A vast expanse of lands with no blemish,
Under skies that stretch with no limits.
This land that I first laid eyes on a decade past,
Where winds tell tales and waters sing,
This land of awe and heart-stopping beauty,
Is where my heart stayed and forever will.
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.