soft bristling dry leaves dance
in the calm december breeze
the cold of the morning has disappeared and a full fledged indian sun
that is characteristic of any piece of land
in India, be it summer , winter or rain
blasts through confused weed grasses.
the silent sounds of leaves falling down on the ground ,
and a few birds chirping
put me to a sleep
and i dream of the brilliant sun, the sound of leaves falling and all these things in detail
in my afternoon slumber dream ;
in delight or dismay;
for the world is fast changing outside this blanket of forest
if I was oblivious of such intricacies around me before
or if I have become one with the forest.