To my envy the trees told me

Flammable I’m nor dry tinder, Scare me nor threaten of lightning, Past autumn and chilly winter, I look forward to the next spring. I’m already left with few leaves, Let worst of autumn’s fall arrive, Go not by my dry woody frame, The tree in me is all alive. What if covered I’m with this frost, Just around the corner is sun, I see life well past all this change, Every season to me is fun. A meditating sage, no arid stem, You had better go not by my lean frame. __________________________ Sonnet |01. 04.2025| tree, Nature, autumn, spring Note: Many trees in India experience autumn and spring more than once a year. I watched two Peepal trees and one Neem in front of my house shedding leaves in just a few days and again acquiring them equally fast-- from a skeleton wooden frame to a tree with shimmering tender, light-coloured leaves in sun. A tree is always alive, full of life, no matter how it might appear. Looking at it and marvelling of its love of life, to an aging old man, in no mean envy, this sonnet happened.