a bit of life...
Have finished the book…I recommend everyone who wants to appreciate life that little bit more, whether it be those who have travelled to deserts, floated on ice caps or traversed the most dangerous rivers of the world, to those who have never left the comforts of their own bedroom, to read this book. It should, and will open your eyes to the beauty of life, and the miracle that seems to be forgotten by the millions of inhabitants of this city.
So, I sit on a train, and look around. Most people are reading, nearly everyone has some kind of music taking them away from a monotonous every day rat race.
I finish the last paragraph of the book, “we meet people who have cut through jungles, crossed deserts…and yet in souls we would search in vain for evidence of what they have witnessed…” but we should be attempting “to try , before taking of to distant hemispheres , to notice what we have already seen”
How can I appreciate everything that I have seen millions of times? I give it a go. So I close the book, move to the window seat of the metropolitan. One of the few tubes to resemble an overland junk train. The pen which acts as my bookmark becomes my tool as I look outside and take some notes…here is the end result…
A WINTER’S TREE
Standing Naked, frail but refusing to give up
Not like a willow, which humbly bows to its creator with its flaccid arms
The winter’s tree intrudes up to the sky,
Its branches like hungry veins, desperately searching,
Reaching out as far as it can
Trying to grab its ration of rare sunlight, a drop of water
Almost begging.
But there is something dignified with its posture, its stubborn posture
Its decision to stay put, whether it be surrounded by concrete slabs, or amongst others
It doesn’t fall
For its search is nearly over,
The long sacrifice of patiently waiting is repaid by mother nature
As the sun rises further, and the water generously pours
Its life has nt been overlooked,
It breathes , replenished, stomach full
Every naked arm to be rewarded
To be covered with a gorgeous earthly colours
To stand tall again and proud
To be prepared
For next time it will be a winters tree
So, I sit on a train, and look around. Most people are reading, nearly everyone has some kind of music taking them away from a monotonous every day rat race.
I finish the last paragraph of the book, “we meet people who have cut through jungles, crossed deserts…and yet in souls we would search in vain for evidence of what they have witnessed…” but we should be attempting “to try , before taking of to distant hemispheres , to notice what we have already seen”
How can I appreciate everything that I have seen millions of times? I give it a go. So I close the book, move to the window seat of the metropolitan. One of the few tubes to resemble an overland junk train. The pen which acts as my bookmark becomes my tool as I look outside and take some notes…here is the end result…
A WINTER’S TREE
Standing Naked, frail but refusing to give up
Not like a willow, which humbly bows to its creator with its flaccid arms
The winter’s tree intrudes up to the sky,
Its branches like hungry veins, desperately searching,
Reaching out as far as it can
Trying to grab its ration of rare sunlight, a drop of water
Almost begging.
But there is something dignified with its posture, its stubborn posture
Its decision to stay put, whether it be surrounded by concrete slabs, or amongst others
It doesn’t fall
For its search is nearly over,
The long sacrifice of patiently waiting is repaid by mother nature
As the sun rises further, and the water generously pours
Its life has nt been overlooked,
It breathes , replenished, stomach full
Every naked arm to be rewarded
To be covered with a gorgeous earthly colours
To stand tall again and proud
To be prepared
For next time it will be a winters tree
posted by amitosensei at 1:27 AM
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