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Showing posts from June, 2012

conscious, unconscious

There was a tree, a lonely one, neglected by her kinds, abandoned even by birds. For she was a sinner. She didn’t sin on her own, but she aided others in sinning, that was her fault, they say. She tried to tell others she was no sinner… it was a pure accident that she was born in this spot, but others won’t listen to her. When the spring comes, and all of them blossom in myriad of colours, her mind also leaps in joy, she blossoms too. She offers her red flowers to the existence, spread her red arms for the bees to carry her essence to someone, someone who she can claim to be her lover. But the bees ignore her. The cuckoo won’t coo in her branches, the little birdies won’t tweet. And the time passes by silently. She sheds her offering, wrinkles on her body, she shrivels and closes her eyes in pain. Her ornaments discarded away, she tears her clothes too … the leaves fall, she stands sad, stark naked, a skeleton. Yet, she forgets her disappointment and blossoms again in the next spr…