I am becoming a Tree
My arms extended in calling
I branch out in verses
they are shiny fruits hanging
high and low in perspectives
alternating light and dark
I am becoming a Tree
My trunk plants its roots in a garden
I witness moss growing on my feet
they disappear softly within green
circles of brown dissolve within its sheen
Totem of tomorrow’s world sprouts
I am becoming a Tree
Wide branches from keen twigs
absorb the sunshine in waves
they cast no shadows on the seekers
gathering around my rivulets
My waters are shared with all
I am becoming a Tree
I am sunshine and rain
I gather feathers and fluff
as the nightbirds hold in me home
Sizzling thoughts in me roam
I bear the smooth and the rough
I am becoming a Tree
I climb giddily towards the skies
Though my roots coil me to the ground
in sweet harmonious belonging
my leaves rustle in the clouds
I am bustling prayers and shrouds
Reading of the poem:
Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum 