Air Tree Poem by Gajanan Mishra

Air tree,
Not in summer,
But I see
In this winter.

I feel it,
I touch it,
I call it,
Come on dear.

Air tree,
Not exactly,
But light tree,
Under which
You are discovered.

Rumour, rumor,
The words I heard.
All are truth, though.
I come back to fire
But I see nothing there.

All my hope scattered,
And I arrived at the place,
Where I find that tree,
Not of air, not of light
But the tree with all trust.