Veil
written by: Anu Shrestha
And it began at the southern edge —
a slow unfurling of the unseen,
where human dwellings rest
against the quiet pride of green hills.
From where I stand, near the far horizon,
something descends from the heavens,
softly cloaking the slopes;
the hills sigh beneath it,
their outlines dissolving into whispers,
fading — yet still watching,
still guarding,
silently, unseen.
Only those who live within the folds
know the pulse that lingers there —
the hidden breath of the hills
beneath the veil that never names itself.
Across the distance, I hover like a thought,
catching the faint silhouettes of what was,
of what still is —
shapes that appear and vanish
within the hush of the horizon.
Latest posts by Anu Shrestha (see all)
- While the Rain Remembers - March 13, 2026
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