In Sirpur’s hush, where temples rise,
And Buddha’s calm still graces skies,
We shape a place from sacred dust,
With brick and earth, in mindful trust.

Inspired by ruins, wise and still,
Where time once paused on every hill,
Shreepoorna grows—an echo cast,
A woven tale of future, past.

An adobe born for vows and thought,
Where souls arrive, not just are brought.
For wedding chants or silent meet,
It offers shade from modern heat.

Arches curve like whispered lore,
Through halls that ancient breathes restore.
It is not built, it is revealed,
A prayer in clay, both raw and healed.

A center not of stone alone,
But spirit, soil, and sacred tone.