(Inspired by a title of a book)
This is my private mythology:
the wind chasing the runaway leaves,
snowflakes marching on the rooftops,
raindrops piercing the deaf city,
sunshine painting the garden green.
This is a Walden inside a Walden
where solitude crowds my days and
Nature’s company isolates me at night.
I walled this world with words
against the barbaric silence.
My tears water this garden,
zephyr brushes the trees and
the sun bathes the leaves its color.
This is my private mythology.
First published in The Germ