We left the village of Dangs in Saputara
walked through deciduous leaved paths
black basalt rock were jade hued with moss
where sunlight didn’t penetrate
Higher, mountain got scraggy and peaks bald
soil golden dust the colour of a tiger’s coat
wind howled carrying scents of forests below
a Dang sat unmoving warning us ‘wagh hai’
That’s what they said in the village
looking up at the hills as though at the heavens
the tiger had come as far as that mountain there
eyes clouded with memory of a different time
Census does not map this region for tigers
still a Dang herding his cattle high there
as another sitting pensive on the cliff
watching the blue skies, warn ‘wagh hai’
They dream tigers here
like their cousins Ratwa Bhils
dream of horses racing on their pastures
All these peoples indigenous to my country
spread across central India
adorn her like a richly jeweled girdle
Oh, they have beautiful dreams.
( ‘wagh hai’ , in Marathi, means ‘there are tigers’)
Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo # 18 NaPoWriMo Day 18
My Garden 
Another lovely, vivid poem.
Wonderfully beautiful depiction of central India. Love the last two lines especially.
Well done, Uma!
~Mark
Uma,
Beautifully done with the prompt.
Pamela
tigers beautiful tigers… i like the wandering description of getting there…. in oz the aborigines speak of dreamtime… this whole other world as you speak…. here kitty kitty as always a pleasure to stop by and open a door once not even there… thank you uma
Nice description
I am appreciating your poems again and again. I like the line They dream tigers here. This sounds like it could be just a little autobiographical but if not, it shows vivid capacity to imagine. Nicely done and thank you for sharing.
Another culturally rich poem Uma. The light touch of the last line is beautiful. So poem has the ineffable quality.