M o u n t a i n F a b r i c


As the battered
wheels climb thousands
more feet above
the unending sea,
my mummed heart
undresses slowly.

My nakedness
embraces the
soft mountain fabric
made by murmurs of
the wind and leaves
of the giant
green guardians of
the endless Himalayas.

I am home.

©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via my dearest Shubhodeep Roy

In response to dVerse Quadrille #50 using the word “murmur”. This is inspired by my recent trip in India which touched my soul in a different level. 🙂 You can read more about it here.

39 thoughts on “M o u n t a i n F a b r i c”

  1. This poem shows how deep the Himalayas touched you. I know you can still hear the sound of the battered wheels while the wind came gushing through the small opening in the window. I can feel every word of this poem. This is another gem. “Mountain fabric
    made by murmurs of the wind”, “Giant green guardians of the endless Himalayas.”, Wow! Only a poet of your calibre can come up with phrases like those. I am stunned. and I am humbled. Way to go woman

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes. Yes. The sounds and the feel of the mountains are now engraved on me. I carried them along with the cherished moments we shared, my dear one. 🙂 Thank you so much! Those phrases are my futile attempts to share how it felt. How the Himalayas felt in person. Thank you, man! Thank you so much!


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