The perennial stream that run through the woods begin its course far flung the climax of Phajoding,a heavenly abode of gods and goddesses.
I narrate it as traditional masterpiece, hidden on the mountains where colorful prayer flags flutter and bravely stood against the mighty sky.
Stupas lay there so quiet yet so ancient,
The hills and mountains awake me of fairy tales,the happy endings.
I went up picking summer mushrooms.
It's Thimphu,a beautiful setting.
You fly through the woods,powered by wings of imagination
waving beyond the dancing clouds,
the Bluepines and grassy earth ,
I crept like a creature walking barefoot,
connected to the motherly earth.
The smoke incense from mountainside,
Three birds glided softly and vanished across,
I wish i could stay there forever.
A tree house,swinging from branch ,
the hush and tranquil breeze,
the cattle that graze on the meadows,
This Utopian bliss did cast an enchanting spell,
I picked up some more mushrooms,
Sooner my bag did fill up,
The city blooms in a majestic fashion,
an icon of heavenly country side,
From the hill that lounge the valley,
The awaken Buddha takes a glimpse,
The sparkle of his compassionate face,
relieves the rays of wisdom and profoundness,
I walk down through the woods,
skidding on bumpy slopes,
the echo of the mountain spring,
lasted in my thoughts,
I took the last gaze of the city,
A beauty beyond the words,
It lies there so green and so beautiful,