The Bud - Poem by Imaanah Saleem
First the bud,
It settles steadily on the branch,
I watch it day by day,
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
Comments about The Bud by Imaanah Saleem
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You