Tuesday, June 19, 2007

the language of the trees

Trees began to move past me. Clothed in dark, seemingly sinister colours. A soft rustle, from the leaves as they constantly brushed against each other. Oh so! tenderly. A musical swish, a sigh.... which reminded me of the decades that they have witnessed. As mute spectators. A birth here and a death there. Happiness in this side of the world and melancholy somewhere else.

Just like you and me.

While the world spins around us. In a maddening speed. Which seems to get faster every second. Will i be able to survive? To compete?

Trees can provide company. It can prove to be a very good friend. Only if one believes so. Only if one thinks that sharing stories with trees can be interesting and worthwhile.

A mild whisper, once in a while. What are those leaves trying to say? And when the wind currents are strong, the leaves swoosh and sway. To the tunes of the wind. Again. Conversing with me. In louder tones. Yet enchanting. In a pleasant manner.

Communication between a tree and a mortal can vary. Both are conditional i.e., the tree and the mortal.

Perhaps, a tree near the coastline likes to talk about the soothing breezes that sweeps the bank from the sea. A few long fronds of a coconut tree indicates to us, the storms that it has endured. The times, when, somebody scaled it's long trunk to obtain tender coconuts.

Or perhaps, a banyan tree and me chit-chat about those children who like to play amidst it's roots. Huge, snaking roots that support the main trunk. Makeshift swings are easily created with the help of my boughs.. it says proudly. Or, of those times, when a bunch of friends sat on it's roots. Amongst those roots which laced the ground, which went underground, only to be seen a few inches away. Playing hide and seek with the earth and it's ever-varying list of visitors.

Trees tell us various things. About a pretty maynah that sat on one of it's branches..... a scavenger crow which had strands of flesh haging from it's mouth...... a cuckoo cooing into the environment.... while a pair of parrots flit from one tree to another in a squeal, one chasing the other.... about a squirrel which has made the tree it's home..... a train of red ants following each other religiously, in search of food....

Many things happen between a tree and me. As i stare into it's thick, protective camouflage..... the leaves move in a particular vague fashion. Seemingly unheard voices... i'm having a tete-a-tete with it.


Anand Balaji said...

by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

mouna said...

the last para steals the show quite easily. personification is quite apt, dont u think? :)

neela said...

Lovely thoughts ,Mouna.
lovely poem,Anand.
i have no more words to describe my feelings...

mouna said...

:) thanks, dear!

Anand Balaji said...

Oh yes! I agree:)