The morning rays stream through the light curtains I have put up to greet the impending summer,
I opened my windows to be greeted by the rustle of leaves and the Koel bird’s murmur.
Standing by the French windows on the 12th floor, the lush green garden below spoke a million words!
The bright flowers were a witness to the spring that had blessed the earth,
Standing there I could almost picture the glistening dew everywhere, on the leaves, the dew and even on the tree’s girth.
Standing by the French windows on my 12th floor, a tree below laden with old, brown leaves spoke a million words!
Strange tree it was and stranger was its gait.
Laden with old leaves on a branch, it adorned new ones in another one.
Sleepy, coffee deprived eyes of mine couldn’t help but stare,
The blank mind tried to imbibe to the story it had to share.
It was as if the tree screamed out to me,
That for moving on shedding of old baggage is not necessary.
It seemed to say that let old, rusted thoughts and feelings stay,
Instead of pushing them away, let new and fresh ones overpower them in the natural way.
That, nothing was more wondrous than to see the battle of past and present,
That nothing was more soothing than to see for once life fight out priorities.
And that it was perfectly fine to be confused, not knowing what is to be,
That it was perfectly fine to be me.

As I drove to work like everyday,
Thinking about the mundane life – blowing smoke rings in the air.
Thinking about how life has come to fare,
I stop at the signal, the usual one I cross each day.
But then again a bare tree unnoticed for so long leads my thoughts astray.
It’s a day of trees and their lessons I wonder,
As the barren tree goes on to say yet another story.

Bare barks, bare branches with the hint of green buds,
Talk in oodles of a past, which was barren, and a future, which is to be green.
It was as if it sought to tell me that it’s good to feel lost and bare,
That it was nature’s process of healing to scrape you off everything to nudity, before beginning the process of regeneration and welfare.
That, nothing was more wondrous than to see the process of healing,
That nothing was more soothing than the “it’s all gonna again be ok” feeling.
And that it was perfectly fine to be confused as of now, not knowing what is to be,
That it was perfectly fine to be me.


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