I do not understand why, br That rusty, old trunk looks inviting; br That home of sacred memories. br Perhaps, because although material, br Its spirit boasts of secrets alive. br br I do not understand why, br Stirs me inside that desert storm; br Omen of destructive beginning. br Perhaps, because its force over the dunes, br Wipes those anonymous juvenile trails on sand. br br I do not understand why, br The rainy nights lull me to deep slumber; br Tempting silence disturbed by the descant of sweet raindrops. br Perhaps, because the drops though small, br Settle the inscrutable qualms. br br I do not understand why, br Autumn twilights and with me smear into old vistas; br Biting winds defeating the hearty warmness. br Perhaps, because they are awaited prophets of memories, br Diverting me from the road to oblivion. br br I do not understand why, br On my mind escape from this crowd; br Distorted silhouttes all I see. br Perhaps, because I shall then again transcend to the jamboree of my musings, br Whose immaculate congeniality, forever beautiful.