Why Is It So One Wonders

I am what I am nothing more Twist in the head Waves bringing reasons to shore Colors of autumn that bleed Perhaps a bloom without a hill Tree in a garden of green Dreams of the sunset to spill What it knows and has seen There are ideas and things Slander and bright spoken Some of it bouquet brings Just as a thought or a token Capable of their indecision A rose that in thorns wanders Clumsiest disguise in precision Why is it so one wonders? Laugh not today but tomorrow Indubitable like the wind Or even the pins of saguaro When into the soft they are pinned Beneath the clumsiest disguise The fields are wind being Bright slender her lovely eyes For only the mountains seeing