Wednesday September 11, 2019 | 0 comments
Continued from Kanchenjunga Tears – Part 1
While traveling in Darjeeling together, Kandy had the American version of her father’s book with her. The inclusion of the photos proved to be priceless. We met some of the people that appeared in the book – photos taken fifty years earlier! There were tears, shouts of joy, long embraces, and memories I will have for the rest of my life. The impact this British family had on the people of Kanchenjunga has been left forever. The mountains hold these precious spirits, and today they weep.
I have written several posts of my trip to Darjeeling, England, and the Fletcher family. A truly remarkable member of our tea family is now gone. With sincere condolences to Kandy Smith, my dear friend, we send blessings from America.
Darjeeling Tea Hills
The Kanchenjunga Mountains so close;
Everest looms in the remote distance.
The mist covered tea hills of Darjeeling even with their exquisite beauty,
pale in the shadows of the eternal Everest.
He is mysterious and he knows best.
He is calm and stands mighty in all his
masculine power and presence.
If you are fortunate, from the Darjeeling heights,
he will expose himself to you.
A flasher demanding the expression of surprise.
His presence is calling, daunting, and daring;
flirting with those who know to answer his call.
Taunting – he stands hypnotic and majestic.
Many will fall and leave their souls behind for the
mountain whisperer to find.
Upon his discovery is the recovery of a spirit now set free.
Some spirits fight to stay behind so they may enter the dreams and hearts of those entranced;
those who will dance with the spirit of Everest.
Nestled in the tea hills of Darjeeling,
caught up in the day to day,
the mist keeps Everest at bay – hidden in plain sight.
He calls not to the tea folks below – he leaves them alone.
For he knows they belong.
It is the rest of the world he seeks, and when he speaks,
their hearts receive the summon.
The call of the mighty – for some
an invitation they cannot resist;
a whisper that silently settles in the heart,
a seed awaiting its germination
Many are beckoned to visit the tea hills of Darjeeling,
and some never know why.
The seed not yet to sprout – perhaps not in this lifetime.
Everest waits – he knows no haste.
He knows he will still be there.
Shielded by the mist
clouds that bow down to the almighty Everest;
they keep his secrets – they shroud his presence
they fall in reverence.
On a rare and special occasion
they part only for mere seconds
and offer the attuned viewer – the sight of a lifetime.
The grand and grandiose Everest stands stoically still
while it towers over
and guards all the precious tea hills
of the endearing Darjeeling.Dharlene Marie Fahl
Images provided and copyright held by author