In my Garden
I have sown Seeds.

Not all of them will grow roots
Fewer still will stretch out their arms
And ever see their purpose-
The clear sunny light of day.

Many more shall wither
Under the relentless sun’s rays
Desiccated and lifeless, bent over in shame
Wilted, fallen
Back to whence they came.

Few indeed are those who will
The lashes of rains and storms.
Many will grow too tall, too proud
And the winds shall break their rigid forms.

Of a thousand million seeds
One comes by
Through nature, through nurture, and a bit of both
That grows and weathers
Through both rain and shine
And stands the relentless, grueling test
Of Father Time.

Oh Forest King, you are the shelter
Of a thousand million tiny souls
Little birds that nest among your leaves
And squirrels that climb up your boughs.

And of the ants and bees
That feast on your nectar and your leaves
You bear it with non-chalance, while we gaze
With doting reverence
At the play of schadenfreude
While the winds whisper a multitude
Of songs among your leaves.

Grateful, grateful grateful we are
To Nature, to Chance
To Change’s wondrous, flowing dance.

Thankful we are for your penance,
Oh great and mighty Tree.
What can I offer, but teardrops
At your ancient, tender feet?

Your roots go deep
Into the Earth
Your arms reach the skies above
You have no need for my salty tears
And yet you bear it- patiently-
And you offer each of us
The sweet fruits
Of your endless labours
Just like that.

Oh great and lovely Tree.
Big as a forest,
Tender as a blade of grass
If only I could dance my dance
As gracefully, as carefully as thee.

I just wish I could spend all my lives
Under your lovely grace and shade.

But wait you must, oh weary mind
For before we reach that lovely date
Our fair share of thorns and thickets
We have yet to wade.

When will I wake?

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.” – R. Frost