Saturday, January 21, 2012

The Thorn Tree

A small tree grew slowly
Into my heart.
"It's a thorn tree!" they said.
I didn't listen.
For how can I kill a tree?
A beautiful growing tree
With leaves, and blossoms,
And birds that sing
On bouncing branches in spring?

 The tree grew.
The tree grew.
"It's a thorn tree, a thorn tree!" they said.
But I didn't listen.
The lure of the shade
The beautiful green
Against blue skies
Blinded my eyes
"It's my tree, my beautiful tree", I said.

Spring after Spring
The thorns on my tree grew sharper,
The thorns on my tree grew deeper
Into my soul.
"It is a thorn tree… A thorn tree" they said.

But how can I hear them
Now that I’m dead? 

1 comment:

ruma said...

Hello, Asmaa Al-Qaysi.

  Even more severe in winter, but.
  Your work is embraced in your gentleness.

  Thank you for the warmth of your heart.

  The prayer for all peace.
Have a good weekend. From Japan ruma ❃