Dust everywhere
Wandering cows
Pine forested hills
That sing with sweet music
The river Ganga azure
And holy
Little girls no more than six years old
In heavy black eyeliner
Beauty and innocence
Masala chai street vendors
There is magic in these hills
There is memory of lifetimes
From the turquoise lure of the Ganges
To prayer beads and pujas
And Incense burning in temples
Ancient vedic writings
Sacredness all around
Grounding, edifying
Swarming with raw pure love
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