Monday, June 16, 2008

On a visit to Baircha Lake

Arms entwined around branches

I become part of the tree

Swinging, swaying with the breeze

hair floating, branches waving


The rhythmic movement reminds me

of the rowing oars on a boat

Down below, the waves lap and dash against the rocks.


Maya said...

This was so wonderful!!! Just had to comment... And your poem about trees. Beautiful....

OMG am I stalking you?! I like your work!

anj said...

me, too! fell for this one as well. it works.