Psithurism…

I achingly longed for him,
For the silence was deafening
He, the one who plays the tunes
And to which, I lovingly sway
Sometimes gently,
Sometimes vigorously
Longer are his songs on some days
Just a while, on others
At times he brings his friends
Who makes me tingle and sparkle
Mesmerised in their music
I give away my brittle babies
Slowly he stops his song but I remain allure
Away he takes the bodies of my dead children
And fumingly I wait for his return
But then, with his approaching music
I forget my dead children
And I simply give way to his needs
For its a vicious circle
His tunes and my dance
Are inseparable
For as long as life exists
“The wind plays his tunes
Along with his rain friends
A lone banyan tree sways
Shedding away her yellow brittle leaves…”
 

The Tree

The roots, strong and grounded

The branches, spreads a warm welcome

The million leaves, green and brittle

The trunk,mighty in the face of storm

The twigs,but bow humbly to the breeze

The huge home, to a few hundreds

Forcing but none to stay

Takes the trash and gives us life

Harming none on the on the way

And yet we, the “humans” destroy

“The Tree”

maxresdefault

 

In response with the Daily Prompt : “Tree

Picture Courtsey : Google

Note : Edited 🙂