Trees Poem by Shujaat Rahi

The tree that I gazed at, has started growing inside me.
-Rilke, the French poet

The bunyan trees
that have sprung
from the depth of the mother-earth,
make the travellers drink
the nectar of the cool shades
and provide vigor
to the worn-out souls.

The sweet fragrance,
nurtured in the bitter taste of margosa,
tickles the languid souls.

The sandalwood,
when chopped,
makes you all perfume.

The olive tree lights the lamps
with its oil.

The mahagoni tree,
while cut in the moonlight,
makes a moon rise
out of your heart.

The gorgeous throngs of the coconut
and their juice,
blended with sugar and honey,
the succulent slices of pineapple,
the heavy bunches of the yellow bananas,
satiate hunger,
quench thirst
and transform life into nectar.

The bending boughs
know the psyche of the changing weathers.

The soft, rustling foliage
Spreads rapture in the air.

The off-shoots...
the green bangles of the bending boughs...
borrow essence from the seasons
and kindle the bleak hearts.

All these trees,
these boughs,
this foliage,
these blossoms,
are growing thick shadowy trees in hearts.

'Watch us, ' they say,
'if you want to know how to live.'