Shadows cast by destinations,
Creeping stealthily from far and near,
Devouring the milestones,
Planted by you and the eternal Path.
Abandoned by the skies, and
Weaving a shelter for his unfinished search
Out of the yarn of his solitude,
The wandering pilgrim waits for you,
O Breeze, where are you?
Please gather him in your lap,
Like the leaf that descends from the twig, or
The snowflake traversing the yonder blue,
Or just like the inebriating aroma,
Emanating from the shower-drenched earth.
O Breeze, gather and take him please,
To the path that departed long ago, and
To all the turnings, all the crossings,
>From where the footprints escaped,
To mingle with the meandering trail,
Buried under the murky shadows,
Which swallowed the milestones,
Where hoping to meet the destination,
He had paused, but the path,
As always had moved ahead.
Gathering the path in his chants,
And its echoes in his hymns,
Lighting prayers, fighting shadows,
As the path keeps on moving ahead,
The pilgrim waits in vain, always.
Transcending the horizon,
Annihilating the skies,
Only you have seen the beginning
And also known the end, O Breeze!
Please gather him in your lap,
To the end where all beginnings rest, and
The milestones, destinations
The pilgrim and pilgrimage
All merge into the finality of the path
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