Shambho

An ache breathes

in my dreams and paintings

to lay and leave my limbs on

these mountains mighty.

A visit ensued so.

And the dream, in part, conceived

without warning.

But warning I did need not.

My limbs didn’t tire.

Only my breath did.

Then again, unescapable.

The warmth of this ache,

thawed the chilly air around.

And the snow didn’t distract

my stride to the crown.

Then around the bend of the trail,

I saw.

Swathed in white snow,

He stood as striking as His abode.

A stubborn resolve

to reach Him ascended.

The fuel to my weary limbs and lungs,

just one burning word on my lips;

a ploy titled ‘Shambho’!