Perched on a rock on a windy hill,
Under a clouded sky,
I over look a deserted foot path
And continue gazing at the grass,
Swaying in the light summer wind.
The trees dance, the birds rise
Singing a symphony, waking the wild.
A bush rustles,
And the wild reverberates
Grunts and chirps of beings non human.
A voice pierces through the air,
I hear my name echoing from a distance
I turn around in awe, to find myself alone
Was I imagining the call, I ask myself
There was no answer there either.
I scan again, and see the wild undisturbed
And unconcerned with the echo of the voice.
It was your voice, I couldn't be more sure
I stand in doubt unable to move or leave.
And, it has been echoing, ever since.
