melancholy

A Poem On How We Are Similar To A Tree

Photography by  
Ann He

Photography by Ann He

As I look out through the window
I see new leaves growing on the tree tops
And the old yellow ones are clinging to the twigs waiting for them to fall.
Green ones will soon take over and replace the old.
It’s a natural phenomenon, the tree will be green again and stand tall.

The fallen will be swiped out in morning. Later dumped like a trash or burned if it’s cold to get some heat.
How amazing is the fact that the leaves dedicate their entire life to the tree and then during the finest season of spring falls down to the ground.
What if the tree began to mourn for the gone and stop helping the new members, would it last long.

No. It has to continue its journey, to wake up with the sun rise, to cook under the moon, and to make tiny diamonds collected from the dew.
We all are leaves to someone, we help them revitalize. And we all are a tree to someone, we help them survive.–

Submitted to ArtParasites by Harshendra Thakur