A Conversation

Leaves fell down with weariness,
My aloofness, in their gait.

Autumn had an odour of love,
Not my unspeakable angst for self.

In the veins of the orange maple,
Lay the answers to my chase.

Ground beneath stood still,
My stubbornness, in their body.

Whistling of the winds in the woods,
String of thoughts, in my mind.

Walking across the thicket,
Hardly any answers were found.

A conversation in my mind,
A conversation in nature.

Life sings its song,
Am I in tune with thee ?

© Vinay Nagaraju