A confluence of colour,
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Of rivers
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And geometries.
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The contrast of light and shade,
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A meeting of land and sky,
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The occasional harmonies of monks and music,
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The fusing of health and safety,
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And the fellowship of friends in need.
All were encountered as we travelled on to Darjeeling.
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..”Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.”
“None,” said that other, “save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also..
From “Strange Meeting” by Wilfred Owen.
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