A Poem From the Halls of Isha Home School

Anahita Panicker, alumnus of Isha Home School, pens a beautiful and poignant poem about her school days coming to an end.

And the bells tinkled in the silence of the visiting breeze
Their delicate song pulsating through the sunlit corridors
Blossoming vines clinging on the walls, their rise a dance of ease
And I know. For the last time…

Our flight is unbounded as we wind through the earthly sky
Land truly blessed. Ensconced within the sacred lap
Of the Hills. Of His.
In this sanctuary we fly.
And I know. For the last time…

Received by gentle hands, cared for by strong
A lifetime experienced under the benign and the firm
Given a new home where I find I now belong
And I know. For the last time…

For the last time I wake
To the crescent-dressed tresses of the silhouetted hills
Run from the biting cold of its winters
Pause to witness the birth of a new day,
As the blues chase the starlight across the sky

For the last time I sprint
By the sinuous boughs of that rain tree
Give a passing glance to those viridian curtained fences
Speckled by hued brilliance for the awe of sight
And lend voice to filling melodies

For the last time I will be a part
Of the chatter down stoned paths
Of the laughter within those wall-witnesses
Of the receiving end of Their earful
Of a part of that family – My childhood

For the last time
Will the stream sing its power in measured tones to me
And glide down the sunbathed rocks
The delicate leaves will glitter and dance above me,
Will stand over me, under the blaze of the unclouded sky

And I know these must I cherish
For to find home, away from home
Is never an easy task
But all that I have absorbed here has said
A task beyond the reach of the impossible