The Bud Poem by Imaanah Saleem
The Bud
First the bud,
It settles steadily on the branch,
I watch it day by day,
The bud.
Sometimes I like to imagine the process from within
Does it start from the stem?
Is there some sort of string that creeps its way through until the surface is breached?
Nature plays its lullaby
Not just to the bud
But to all its creatures
And in time
we grow…
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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5/10/2024 11:00:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
