Letter to far away


It has started drizzling here;

tiny droplets, shy and reserved.

As if undecided,

whether to spring into a shower,

or fade away.

A breeze, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, accompanies it.

And phantom lovers occupy the lone bench on the pavement, flooded in golden light.

And I stand here,

in this dark green grove;

Secretly and lovingly embraced, by the trees, and the warm air held in their boughs.

The crickets sing to me their lullaby;

As I slowly become a shadow,

to the people passing by.

To my immense glee,

they walk on,

these humans,

like ants wearing pants;

As I stand here,


the wisdom,

from the bark of a tree.