When eve's dark hand descendeth, dropping,
Where fancies creep and whisperings invite to linger here,
She sits upon waters gray as stone,
Veiled in thought, the world stunned and far from here.
The pond gives back lights from ****** and vain,
A whirl of gold, a promise of delight,
But underneath the green and brooding quiet
Lie unrevealed secrets, and unbetrayed fates disposed.
She sits calm, a word unspoken
In mind, peace to stay and be given.
City noises, music so far,
But here she'll reside, peace recovered.
The furrowed brow in contemplation,
Of bygone days, of union.
World so big now—
But all that it contains is here, within.
This poem was inspired by a nighttime scene captured at a quiet pond—a traditional pokhari (water pond) in a city of Kathmandu. The stillness of the water, the soft reflection of lights, and the solitary figure seated on the edge stirred themes of introspection and emotional stillness.
