My feet graze mile after mile, a bag of forlorn shadows carry meLifting the veil of turmoil off my shoulders, I knew I could never returnBurning kernels steam down the dismal alley way
Barrels tumble, fraying fabric sway, arms tangle cinnamon stringTo bear witness a belonging, cements me in my tracks
Benevolence to the people, the seekers, the temple— thy beacon of eternal blissA compass for my pilgramage, Mother India, I pay refuge
Unlocked a world unknown, yet more familiar to me than my own backyard