don't look for me when I go silent, for you may not find me here - where there are only dams and white water, turning wheels for grey homes, closing in on hills they can never climb,
my spirit doesn't belong here.
don't look for me here; if you remember the silence, you would know where to find me,
don't look for me here; come to the forests as the wild spirit you are, not as a tourist with look-out eyes,
and then perhaps you will find me,
in the fall of leaves upon the earth's broad shoulders, in the skin of trees stroked by the fingers of a doting wind, in the smell of life stirring with a freshness that feeds every pore, in the wildness of songs played in the silence of an enthralled heart,
that's where you'll find me, when you stop looking for me.
by Priya Desikan