The young fledgling is on the prowl
—keeping up with urban—
With nature’s hand laid on,
Carrying dreams of many.

Flowing through its throat,
With clear and subtle divinity,
The fertile essence of Tinau
Quench the thirst of many.

Drifting over soil and asphalt,
With groans of love & sighs of blue,
The boisterous wind
Speak the voice of many.


— Padam ‘Paddy’ Thapa

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