The rumbling sound
Of falling autumn leaves 
Breaks the silence 
Within the humble heart
        
...
    
        I was dreaming of happiness….
It had wounded wings
And some sad scars
Gathered in a handful solitude
        
...
    
I was born human in the ancient city of Philippopolis, Bulgaria. Nowadays its name is Plovdiv. Thracians, Byzantines, Romans, Ottomans have all left their imprints in this beautiful charming place, raised on seven hills. Ancient history was much appealing to me since youth. I was a dynamic child, involved in all sorts of activities except creative writing. I have been working all my life as a paediatrician, serving the most beautiful and inspirational race on Earth —our children. I use " scribotherapy" to reflect on human existence and a life in parallel reality.)
                    Autumn Nostalgy
                    
                    The rumbling sound
Of falling autumn leaves 
Breaks the silence 
Within the humble heart
So weary and anxious
Autumn melancholic clouds
And brittle failing sunrays
Are wrapping the Earth   
Days are dull and shorter
Thoughts are becoming darker
Living humans are like hazel shells  
Full of self - absorption and grief
Mourning the dying spring blossom
Of the trees in that Eden garden
Where every flower was a newborn life
Autumn solitude magnifies 
That longing for each other
Is it seasonal 
or a wholesome mood of the year? 
Love wisdom is lost in the mist of time
                

 
                    