I can’t say,
To speak with
What memories I hold
To my belief
In summer
In winter,
In the season,
And disappearance.
The hues of morning,
Is chill
And I sing
My song knowing
The wind is playing
A tune,
To silence the
Orchard tree.
I pause to learn,
As the roots relish
In thoughts
In the same kiss
By the wind,
In separation
To my ancient family,
In fullest.
Sidharth P K
India