What would happen if the trees in a forest got into a conversation?
What do you think they would talk about?
Would they compare their heights?
The lusciousness and colors of their leaves..
Talk about the texture of their bark?
Would they discuss in lengthy sways about the weather and the winds?
How hot the summer would be this year..
How the previous winter dried the very roots and shoots of their being,
Almost a near death experience!
When it rains would they get romantic,
Secretly extending their roots to hold hands underneath the soil?
Will one tree get jealous by the blooming blossoms of another?
Or upset that the birds always flock to that one cool tree?
Will they discuss who’s the new kid around the woody block?
On a full moon night would they share stories,
Of how they grew in the shade of their father –
From a little sapling to a mighty tree?
Do they get annoyed with the travelling band of monkeys,
Who seem to tickle them as they go swinging by?
Do they wonder about the creatures of the forest,
Of their quick and meaningless lives?
Do they smile at each other, shake hands, or nod heads?
So, what do you wonder my wondrous trees?
Wish I could sit down and listen to you speak.
Tag: trees
Wintry Day
The days turn shorter and darker.
The skies have snuggled inside a grey blanket of clouds.
Trees stand stark naked begging for mercy
With their skeletal hands towards the skies.
The wind continually snores,
When disturbed its shrill howls will make one scamper.
Half-past 4 and the town is deserted,
Silence is all that remains.
Cluster
There is hardly anything new left for me to see outside my window. The trees stand calmly as always, clustered together. Sometimes still, sometimes swaying with the wind.
The lawn is green and beautiful. Now and then, I see people on it who bring their dogs out for a walk. The streets are empty, mostly parked cars. There is just a driveway in my community. My community is wonderful but it is also very quiet and can sometimes be boring.
Earlier, I used to get excited looking at the different varieties of birds outside my window. I still do, but they haven’t become my friends yet! Like I said, life here is calm and quiet. Just what I had always dreamed of.. but do we really know what we want?
Today, I had an urge to peep into the houses of my neighbours. Just for a change, to see what other people are up to.. What are they cooking? What are they wearing? Which show is running on their TV? Did I just hear someone arguing? Are the children up to some mischief?
These silly things which I took for granted and found annoying back in India are the things that I often miss. I look outside my window and find trees clustered together. Back home, my family, friends, and neighbours were the clustered trees. Together. Now I wonder, what I am doing here away from my tribe? Where is my cluster?
Visualize
The stillness
of an old lone tree
by the sea.
On a full moon night.
Cinder
A pile of wood
burnt to the ground.
A fume of smoke
rises from its ash.
Winding slowly,
fading away.
A gust of wind
Blows on the heap of cinder.
It takes to the air
Breezing through the forest
In which it once lived.
..and the tree said..
“the cold, harsh winter withered me away.
It left me with nothing
but barrenness.
You saw through my emptiness..
You stood there for hours looking at my
crooked arms and shriveled body.
Though I had nothing upon me,
you always looked at me with a smile and exclaimed,
“So beautiful!”
and now the sun shines down upon me
making me warm
slowly bringing me back to life.
and now just for you my dear,
I will gather all my fallen leaves
and bloom like I’ve never before.
my leaves will dance when you move.
my blushing blossoms will paint rosiness on your cheeks.
the sweet fragrance from my wild flowers
will bury itself in your soft black curls.
my breeze will touch ever so lightly,
and kiss your face.
then I will watch you,
like you always did..
I will watch you, smiling at me again.”
Winter
Snow-clad, bare-naked trees
Stood tall and still,
embracing the harshness of the weather.
Many glanced at their barrenness and looked away..
Many stared and related their miserable lives to them..
Many looked up and drew artistic inspiration..
Many lay at their feet and enjoyed the view of the clouded skies..
Admiration and disapproval,
Both seem to come their way.
But do they care?
They continue standing tall and still,
Embracing the winds of change.
A Walk
Day 90
It’s all foggy as a dream.
Tall naked trees
As far as the eyes can see.
Autumn leaves, below the feet
Warm, cool breeze touches the cheeks.
The sky is a clouded blanket of greyness
It’s only you and the forest serene.
Breathe deep to inhale the misty breeze
Walk into the paradise of your dreams.
Trees without Leaves
Day 79
The trees have shed their leaves
Only the bare empty branches remain
Looking like a wrinkled old man’s outstretched arms.
Pink Trees
Day 70
Pink bougainvillea leaves
Shedding their prettiness,
On deserted streets.
Into Words 