Pathways to Inner Silences

Whispers through the golden leaves, a path so still,
Where thoughts like scattered seeds may grow at will.
Between each sigh of wind, a silence waits,
A canvas bare, where soul and nature mate.

Where thoughts like scattered seeds may grow at will,
Time's gentle flow is felt, a tranquil thrill.
In every pause, a deeper truth unfolds,
A canvas bare, where soul and nature mate.

Time's gentle flow is felt, a tranquil thrill,
Paths winding through the heart, a silent drill.
Autumn's cloak, in whispers, softly holds,
In every pause, a deeper truth unfolds.

Paths winding through the heart, a silent drill,
Whispers through the golden leaves, a path so still.
Autumn's cloak, in whispers, softly holds,
Between each sigh of wind, a silence waits.