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Mamta Wathare Feb 2020
Crawl your way up
the bitter earth
Break open
And breathe

There’s a world out there
for you to see
but first
you must learn
to weather a storm
to swim a sea ...
and grow as if you were a tree
each day, everyday

you must live
like it is the beginning
as if the story has
just  started
and you are the master of your own mystery  

So, gather your soul
wait for the sunlight
stay rooted,feel the breeze
on your warm skin

And Breathe ...
Bhill Feb 2020
If you can't see the forest, do you know about the trees
Can you see that they are there, along with birds and some bees
They are a driving force of nature and bring about new life
They are the single most important thing, oh wait, so is my wife...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 35
Always pay attention to your surroundings.
Shofi Ahmed Jan 2020
The free-flying bird
always eyes on the high
looking for a new blue sky.
If only, can it ever own
a little twig on the tree?
On a tree when does it fly
the next mo it sways away!
Jenish Jan 2020
Long long ago in a lonely lovely hill
When earth was young, handsome and green
Besides the meadow near the curly winding flow
There stood a tree proudly high and spry.

Swaying and dancing in wheezy pleasy breeze
Never was he still, always in a swing.
Not even a speck, not a little flea
Never allowed any, sitting in his spray.

Winder came to hinder, pouring all her snow
Our tree kept fighting, throwing all his snow.
Jutting high he stood, leafy and green
In the midst of an ocean of falling snowy flakes.

Two little sparrows, flying from the north
Searching for a shade in that minacious wind.
Saw the mighty tree, swiftly they descent
Nestled in his branches to save their little lives.

Before they could settle, hurled to the ground
Without any mercy, our dancing prancing tree.
Again they tried, again thrown to ground
Again and again, bereft of any kindness.

Tired and puffing that little sparrow mother
Sprawled on his feet fighting for her breath.
Two tiny pearls rolled from her eyes
Smelted on his foot with her warmth and pain.

Dazed and watching, the mighty tree stood
Feeling all the pain the little creature bear.
Heavy at his heart, Heavy was his branches
Forlorn and silent, melting hefty heart.

The feathery teeny couple, eyed the tree quiet
Perched on his branches, prudent and happy.
Later on that day, picking twigs and leaves
Weaving with care, they made their winsome nest.

The dotish dancing tree, spying all their actions
Tussled with tempest, stayed there without motion.
Not a single leaf, not a petty branch
Not even a sigh, he uttered without care.

The pair of lovely birds, huddled in their home
Shared lovely blankets, spreading wings and feathers.
Peeping through his leaves and crimson little branches
He watched the birds slept, with a sense of love.
  
Teeming deep-felt care, bearing flakes and fall
Proud dancing tree, stood there rapt and frozen.
Winter slowly left and the spring was yet to come
The tiny sparrow mother, laid three wonder eggs.

Hugged and rolled in love, day and night in hurry
Feeble tweets and cry, woke the vigilant tree.
Weeny songs of love, doting brush of quills
Tiny goofy beaks, jutted from the nest.

Like a foster father, our tree stood blessed and chilled
Wished to rock and spin, but moved not in the least.
Time kept flying away, spring came dazzling in
Pretty little chicks, learned to flutter and dance.

Rapture spilled around, florets blossomed out
Covered nacarat flowers, stood he shy and blushed.
Chasing flies and bees, singing songs of love
They float around their grandpa, lovely wonder kids.

Swinging salmon fruits, he fed the little birds
Bowing head and pride, with a dancing heart.
The naughty sparrow chicks, poohed on his branches
But the mighty tree, never mind their doodles.

As the wings got stronger, they soared high and far
On the vicinal lands and to the distant shores
Sailing wonder worlds, flying with their dreams
But never forgot to return, for a goodnight sleep.

On to the cerulean sky, not any farewell words
The happy little family, one day flown and gone.
Watching day and night, our doomed dancing tree
Waited for their return, dreadful and as dead.

Sun shed all his splendors to wake and make him happy
Dismal clouds cried, drenching him in showers.
Winter came and poured, covered him in snow
The dancing tree never moved not a single leaf.

From distant snowy clouds chirping sounds he heard
Woken from his slumber, shaking all his snow.
In wheezy pleasy breeze, swayed and danced in glee
Waited for the couple and one more tale of love.
Tea Jan 2020
22:
Oh, tree...
Please listen to me?
You don't have to do anything...
Just listen as I sing...
I've no idea what I should do...
I can only talk to you...
I wonder if I can wrap my arms around your bark...
Maybe then I won't feel so dark?
If I take one of your leaves will you be hurt?
Will your roots dig deeper in the dirt?
Willow Branche Jan 2020
It’s all about the way you care,
With no ulterior motives there.
It makes a difference if to try and fix this,
You lay your soul out bare.

You can try, you can try, you can try to cut her down, but she’s not fallin,
You can try, you can try, you can try to pull her down, but she’s not movin,
You can try, you can try, you can try to make her drown, but she’s not drowning,
No she’s not drowning again!
She’s not dying again!

Desperation sound,
Makes her come around.
It means more when you are bleeding.
It makes her feel found.

You can cry, you can beg, you can try to change her mind, but she’s not changin.
You can snoop, you can sneak, you can lie right through your teeth, but she’s not believin.
You can push, you can shove, you can try to force her love, but she’s not loving.
No, she’s not loving you again!
She’s never looking back there again!

Don’t call her sadistic,
That will make her ballistic,
She’s just a willow tree with her roots in the ground.
She’s just animalistic.
So don’t try to change her or tear her down.
Herself, she’s finally found.
Nikkita Jan 2020
From ground
Silent and bound
To heaven
Wishful and haven

Cradle of everything
That's left to think
Unscathed by time
Still reeks of thyme

There the gods reside
To be saved from thunder
There the gods abide
To be saved from plunder

Catching life
Of lonely beings
One big hive
Full of meanings
Lejla Hott Jan 2020
so warm. strokes of light paints my skin. the trees are dancing ladies. each one in a dress more fabulous than any desginer can craft. they move choreographed by the wind, hand in hand. the early summer morning watches upon them. life and soul are what they give. upwards and outwarrds toward the light they stretch. drinking in the rays as pure as the rain. my arms reach out. fringers spreads towards the sun and slowly begin to dance. one step after another.
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