i often wonder.. if i deliberately keep things vague. a lot of what i say sometimes seems very ambiguous and my writing seems almost cryptic. who could trace it back to what i actually felt.
things of little and much consequence, all made into secret letters... filled with symbols.

i smiled thinking if this was a treasure map or my odd shying away from things..
and how long i have been at it.

:) this time... more explicit!... more explicit!


There is a tree I have seen growing over years. I wish to make a poem for it some day but i think that writing about it would seem autobiographical. and I lack the skills to narrate..
If i knew more words for vivid, more colours than red or blue.. and if maybe i would have known what the rain laden monsoons were called otherwise ....
who knows i could probably have said .... that there are leaves, perching birds... and there are colours... and that the rains make it sway..