Enigmatic, it inevitably is

When the winds twirled

Leaves swirled; pollens whirled

I sat across the mahoganies, pondering

Spent all my moments, loving

As the sunshine dimmed

Far across the horizon

Every living soul rushed home, hurried

And lay in the laps, buried

I still sat glued to those rocks

Up until the crickets creaked

All I heard were the hoots

Punctuated by hisses and silences

I jumped as I felt creepy-crawly and

Moved to a distant source of light

Flicker and dimmer though, it was

Hardy and dauntless, I tried to be

Fear, I never thought was so beautiful

Melodious, I never anticipated it to be

Phantasy, it ain’t

Enigmatic, it inevitably is

--Sriram