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Earning My Bread

The mist at dawn
floating up the lawn
lifted my spirits up
to horizon heights.
The morning commute
through volatile mist
along tree avenued rout,
was therapy to atman*.
I just longed
to sail along life,
as a bird in the mist,
lost in the serene sight.
But snatching the steering wheel
Duty geared me around,
from the pretty, pristine hill
for earning my daily bread.

Note: *atman is soul
Picture design Anumita Roy

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