Don't they have stories to tell?

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Don't they have stories to tell?
The ever transient skies,
Changing from blue to pink to purple and black,
They contain clouds of stories, willing to burst forth ,
But no one to listen,
They sing songs of rage,
Only the thunder applauds,
They cry out in agony, 
And lightning strikes.


The leaves that fall off trees,
And drift as the wind takes them,
Seem to shy to tell their stories...

The wind that whispers words into your hair,
Carries a treasure trove of stories,
Breathed into it by the trees, the sand and the life around.

Don't you have stories to tell?
Of the stuff you are made off,
What made you you,
And what you mask in those liquid eyes and behind that smile?

            ~Ashwini.V

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