For Yani
i see the seed inside you
and day by day it grows
into a tree both with flowers
and fruits and soon the birds
shall find your branches and
shall make nests on your twigs
and soon there will be eggs
and fledglings and soon
there will be children climbing
your treetops
and laughing and playing
under your shade
there will be travelers taking
rest on your roots placing
their spines against your trunk
only if you keep on writing
for art's sake, for yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet – Don’t Be
Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.
Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.
Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.
Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.
poem by John Celes
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That Is Perhaps What Poetry Is All About
a seed thrown on the ground
beside a bush, it grows and you do not notice.
it is sad to say, neglect does not bother.
time is its ally, and it begins to feel its roots
and leaves.it dreams of fruits.
the seed is now a tree, and it summons children
to play, to climb its branches and to reap its fruits.
that is its only joy. To give.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The last thing I have, to offer you
Not long back
I was standing tall with
My branches spread
Upwards, downwards and
In all directions sideward
It was green all around my trunk
My leaves glittering in the bright sun
They fell just after winter
Only to strike again with full vigour
I used to blossom in yellow
With pendant like red dots in the middle
And my flowers shared in secret
The whispers of young lovers in my town
Some offered my flowers to their gods
And felt blessed by the divine
These flowers attracted insects
And colourful butterflies
Who returned intoxicated
Totally nectar drunk
I bore cherry red fruits
They were feast to sparrows
Squirrels and crows
Children of the town
Squeezed my fruits
And enjoyed the sweet flesh
Coated over the big seed inside
My branches housed nests
With young birds waiting for
Their mother's return to feed them
And my thin branches helped
These young birds launch their
First flights under their mother’s guard
At times over my dark rough bark
Snakes ran up to the nests
To prey on the eggs and young ones
I was happy never once these snakes succeeded
My roots were ever busy
Tapping soil nutrients and
Sending them up to each of my tip
My leaves waved and ensured
Regular flow of oxygen rich cool air
Adding comfort to those who chose
To rest a while beneath my mammoth shadow
It was all pleasure for me
To see many around me in comfort
With whatever I can offer to them
All these came to a sudden end
When an unkind lightning struck me
I received the shock of my life
A hot wave ran through the entire me
From the top to the root bottom
And what happened
All functions in me
Came to an abrupt end
My leaves turned yellow and brown
To leave me and they fell in silence
My branches dried and turned black
The fruits did not ripe
I started drying up with no more
Supply of water from the ground
I am stark naked standing like a
Threatening skeleton
Birds, insects and people
Do not visit me
Am I turning useless
But let people know I have some thing
Also to offer
Delay further not and cut me
Burn me and enjoy the warmth
Of my heat and of my burning heart
The last thing I have, to offer you
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Seed
A seed
A bird had swallowed
While in fruit,
Had fallen in some rocky land
As Bird-droppings,
And sprouted into
A lovely tree,
With massive trunk
And boughs with verdant leaves,
And luscious fruits
As birds built nests
And wayfarers had shade from scorching sun!
A seed
A farmer sowed
In fertile land,
Ploughed by oxen
And sweat of brow
’neath scorching sun,
Did sprout also:
But ceased to grow
And withered
As the rains had failed
That year!
Although in both the cases
Seeds seemed similar,
Why did the farmer’s toil
Didn’t fructify?
Perhaps,
The bird had gulped
The best of fruits with seed
That grew despite the rocky soil!
Perhaps, the farmer’s work
Remained by God
Unblessed!
Man’s selfishness
At times ruins his labor great!
The heart of man matters!
Each seed
That’s sowed on earth
Grows by Heaven’s decree!
poem by John Celes
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The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Self Portrait
The willow tree stands alone.
It grows alone, relying only on the Sun and the Rain.
This willow tree offers shade.
It only shades during the day, casting a monster
of a shadow in the mornings and evenings,
its size shrinking in between. Its shadow
is solid in some places, but has empty
places of sunlight dotting the ground beneath
it, allowing room for purity among the darkness.
This willow tree is immune to the Wind.
It bends whichever way it needs to survive,
sacrificing its tiny leaves to be carried away.
This willow tree is a home.
Small birds build nests on its branches,
laying eggs that will bring new Life to the World.
The nest is supported. Some things of little
weight can be supported, but anything that drags
the branches too close to the ground
will be dropped so the tree can be saved.
This willow tree is weak.
As it grows, its branches come closer and closer
to the ground, for it cannot support the weight
of itself anymore. It cannot help its own soul.
With one swing of an ax, the tree will be felled.
It will be finished, left there to be eaten
and burrowed in and rotted away by the Earth.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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All birds must be by now back in their nests
All birds must be by now back in their nests
Sharing with their offsprings
The experiences of the day
And feeding them
With the fruits, nuts and worms
Selectively gathered
With love and care
So that they grow
And soon become strong and skilled enough
To fly on their own wings
They would have started teaching
Their young ones
How to mend the nests
Which twig would go where
Which spongy feather would go where
So that all can have a comfortable sleep
Telling the stories of the past
How the eggs those hatched them
Were protected from invaders
And how they were waiting for these young wonders
Come out breaking the shell
That housed them and helped them shape
Also cautioning them against
Dangerous hungry invaders
With the scheme to devour them
And not to venture into the wind
Before they are trained adequately
In spreading the wings
And in perching on branches
Without the fear of fall
Mom, you did not get us the fruits of this tree
A query from a young one
And mom said, wait two more weeks let the tree flower
And blossom with its orange flowers
Fruits appear within a month
Mom is living is just struggling
No, the dear one
Living is a challenge
Successful living is facing them with joy
Regardless of your overcoming
Or succumbing to the challenge
A clear demonstration of care and love
All birds must be by now in their nests
I am waiting at the local rail station
For the next train towards home
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Trimming The Trees, Pruning The Twigs....
on the tree of life
there will be more leaves
and twigs and flowers
on spring
and more luscious fruits
for eating
there is somehow a
need for trimming
what excesses are there
twigs that go awry
leaves that lush for too much
shade
and so we do just that
cut some twigs
take a look and cut some
more
remove some leaves
for sacrifices
for us to some more
and some time
see heaven for once.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Mango Tree And The Children
the mango tree
blooms on the month
of May
fruits are heavy
soon
on all its branches
is opulence
Comes June
the children come
with their sticks
and slings
and stones
the mango tree is
hit once again
and all the fruits
fall to the
ground
the children
have all the fun
saliva flows from
tongues
dipping in
salt
as early as that
they know what fun is
by hurting those
that fruit so well
by taking the fruits
beyond
what they actually
need
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Plight of World’s Children Today
Like buds nipped before turning into flowers;
Like flowers plucked before fully blossoming,
Crushed without being allowed to form seed –
This is the state of world’s children today!
Like seedlings pulled like weeds with roots from soil,
Like sprouted plants that never can turn trees,
With branches trimmed or broken off like twigs –
This is the state of world’s children today!
Like saplings not nurtured by sun and rain,
Like plants, whose leaves are eaten by stray beasts,
Whose roots can never find right type of soil –
This is the state of world’s children today!
When human beings treat their own offspring
In ways inhuman, most condemnable,
How can God bless mankind upon the earth?
No wonder Nature kills adults likewise!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-17-08
poem by John Celes
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Restlessness
stay put
be a tree
spread
your roots
extend your branches to the skies
have more leaves and let some birds
make their nests in you
learn to know the sun better
then the moon
and then when the night is so dark
imagine a crown of stars
they become yours
without doing anything
stay put
be a tree
do not
do anything
do not move
just grow
and be
yourself
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Big Tree
Big tree
Standing tall
Against setting sun
Majestic silhouette
Geometer's delight
Deep rooted trunk
Branches reaching the sky
Tree depicts life...
Every leaf
Shape so unique
Defining tree family...
Magical colors applied
By Creator's bold strokes
With the brush of seasons
Amazing panorama spreads out
Everywhere and all around.
Flowers spring out
Beauty and fragrance
Magical transformation
Into fruits
Nature transports seeds
To far off lands
It's a new cycle
Trees..forest...life.
Big tree
Stands still
Stands waving
I keep watching
Its far reaching ways
Tree gives us life
Tree gives us shade
To rest and contemplate.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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The Tree Without Fruits
the way they handle
a tree without fruits is
crazy
it is as though
the leaves do not matter anymore
or the roots
or even the wood itself
or the living rings
within
that tell about
a certain
age
they are thinking about
a fire
they are cruel
and i think they deserve
to be
burned in hell
the value of the tree
is not just its fruits
mind you
trees also present memories
of their own
their roots too have
beautiful stories to tell
their twigs and lentils
too have dreams
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Happiness Tree
someone has planted the happiness tree
with branches so strong with roots heavenly
its buds they grew rich and its leaves they grew wild
it grew in the wind where the children all smiled
its bark it was rich and it enriched each new day
the birds of the heavens nested inside its bay
where the spring buds burst daily
for each new spring brides day
the happiness tree offered sustenance and cheer
with ornamental blossoms that changed through the years
its growth was like succor to the robins that sang
whilst its strength was its beauty
a joy to behold when they stretched out their lungs
it grew in the woods amongst the sparrows and toads
the tramps slept beneath its branches so fine i am told
away from damp and the ground there so cold
whist the ducks they did paddle
amongst the owls and the swine
the happiness tree offered a haven at best
for lonesome night travelers n need of some rest
it welcomed the sun and occasional rains
though it smiled on the poor
plus those lost in pain
the happiness tree grew in the dales
its vision was welcoming to the moss and the fells
the squirrels ran amok there amidst its terrains
whilst the chorus of blackbirds sang their refrains
the happiness tree was destined to grow
with its welcoming branches and strong roots below
surrounded by grass and the meadows of morn
it offered a sanctuary to all natures new born
When My Dreams Say, ' We Are No More There
When my dreams say, ' We are no more there'
I shall sail unto an island far off.
There I shall have the sapling of a dream tree planted
And it will grow.
When my dream tree begins to bloom
I will never pluck its flowers ever,
So will when its fruits begin to ripe
I remain hungry and thirsty there.
I shall lie in the shade of the tree
Without ever dreaming to have a dream for me.
Then I shall climb its branches and see for myself
The vast expanse of water green or blue.
I shall hoot from the top of it like an own
Blind often or blinded by the dreams of the past.
I shall shout unto the skies blue
About having dreams aplenty and not still having them.
When I once return to the home in the mainland,
I shall carry one hundred fruits from the dream tree,
I shall give them to men and women I like most
And nay, I will never give them to children ever.
I shall play hide and seek with children
And shall tell about the need for climbing the dream trees
Which will grow and touch the sky once
Even as they might still be dreaming a lot.
But I am afraid, friends,
Even as my dreams have begun to fade out
My island withers out further
And I am left with a rudderless boat
To sail unto that green paradise of my Utopia!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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The Ache Of Separation
now we are far
away, the distance divides us,
like torn cloth
there is a purpose,
and we know it, now, the ache
has its own reasons,
for you to bear more fruits
for me
to make silence my best friend
chartering a new course,
we look at the farthest star, we beat
the heart of loneliness, for soon it will
end, and soon we shall never be parted,
love grows in separation,
takes roots, and invisible inside our
bodies,
we shall bloom, we shall be the same
branches again
on one tree
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Samuel Gardner
I who kept the greenhouse,
Lover of trees and flowers,
Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm,
Measuring its generous branches with my eye,
And listened to its rejoicing leaves
Lovingly patting each other
With sweet aeolian whispers.
And well they might:
For the roots had grown so wide and deep
That the soil of the hill could not withhold
Aught of its virtue, enriched by rain,
And warmed by the sun;
But yielded it all to the thrifty roots,
Through which it was drawn and whirled to the trunk,
And thence to the branches, and into the leaves,
Wherefrom the breeze took life and sang.
Now I, an under-tenant of the earth, can see
That the branches of a tree
Spread no wider than its roots.
And how shall the soul of a man
Be larger than the life he has lived?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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A Joyous Morning
you walk in the garden
and you find that the
seed that you have
planted has become
a tree, and today
you can see
it is bearing so many fruits
its twigs are like
hands wearing
jewelries studied
with diamonds
glittering at night
it is not for you
as it will always be for
all of them
they shall pick those fruits and
relish the sweetest taste of life.
you smile and then
you walk away
to plant another tree.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The fantasy tree
Dangling by its sides,
The twigs and leaves,
Keep dancing to and fro
Making the tree swing in air.
Its beautiful bends and curve,
Smiling all the while dangling,
With its branches,
Always busy accommodating the birds.
The most beautiful tree,
With its trunk coming out,
To make a chair for every,
Naughty child to sit in respite.
The very fantasy tree,
Which is every child’s,
Most fantasy desire and dream,
To sit on its chair for a while.
31/01/09
poem by Winnie Angel
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