Trees, they stand here and there
Brimming with silence, bare
They speak no mean words
Nor do they cut with swords
sharp as a frown.
Oh! I belong there with the trees.
They clap and dance
to the song of the nature
Not thinking of the future
perfectly orchestrated by the wind
with the hands together bind.
Oh! I belong there with the trees.
They are wrapped and hugged
with creepers and climbers\
They may squiggle and wiggle
to the tickling of the creepers growth
But loved the creepers warmth.
Oh! I belong there with the trees.
They drink and breathe
the first drops that falls
The unmarked air that flows
with joy and bliss
And makes me miss.
Oh! I belong there with the trees.
I took that photo too at a hill station in Tamil Nadu and wrote this poem seeing the same scene.
