BONSAI

My leaves dance and tease the wind
My limbs shelter the weary birds
I stand tall against the storm
My roots tap the earth’s bosom –
but only in my dreams where I can be
a tree that need not dream being a tree.

In the dark of night, I turn to the stars and cry
for each spark of hope that dies
with each pruning by a loving hand
to make me the perfect specimen
crowning the miniature of the habitat
that nature gave my big counterparts.

Perhaps, I am wrong
to ache for dreams that cannot be
to find myself in creatures
that I was not meant to be.
Self-pity had me blind
to the beauty, I’ve been told, I possess.
Could I see through your eyes
that I may look at myself with kindness?

 

~~~

Abhra Pal  of  DVERSE Poets’ Pub wants us to write about trees.   Check out Abhra’s and DVerse Pub for lovely poetry. 🙂

 

 

 

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