Amidst the mountains the Pangong lake glides-
its turquoise charm the snowcapped tops reflect.
The daunting hills yet longer the sun hide
that soon peaks to splash its golden dialect.
Pebbles massage my feet in morning chill
as waters long and deep in silence roll.
The crafty wind bends the crops to its will,
and a cow moos as the hunger bells toll.
The lake snakes away to the land unknown,
mocking the boundaries defined by man.
A luminous quilt – as if with time grown-
designed and woven by the nature’s hands.
My tent flutters as I long for a walk.
Blessed is the time when gauged not by a clock.