The BREEZE and the TREE

[BellaLuna]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

 

[JAXY]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

Felt like a Kid again while reading.
&
My imagination was in child universe of moral stories.
​

 

[Anshhi]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

 

[NEPTUNE]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

Really-really cool narrative. Happy for, u have taken time to make scribbles again Expecting more poems from your part hun: )

 

[BellaLuna]

Really-really cool narrative. Happy for, u have taken time to make scribbles again Expecting more poems from your part hun: )

Thanks miss xx

 

[SiRa]

What I liked most is that it’s in simple language that someone like me can easily understand.
Beautiful @Sensely

 

[Dom55]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

cool

 

[Shajfurious]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

 

[TheOG]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

Love nature so that it will love us back

 

[The_LionHeart❤️]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

@Sensely, this is a masterpiece of introspection and emotion. The conversation with the tree reflects such profound wisdom and vulnerability. The symbolism of the breeze as both a force of loss and liberation is striking—it mirrors how we sometimes hold on to things that are gone, only to realize that letting go can be the truest form of healing.

Your imagery is so vivid, I could feel the gentle breeze, see the wrinkled tree, and almost hear the soft whispers between you and nature. It’s as if the tree isn't just a tree but a reflection of the human heart—carrying sorrow, strength, and acceptance.

 

[sparrow]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

Fucking love this waah! Refreshing read

 

[ANNA007]

I stood by my window,
Witnessing gold outside,
Opened the door to conversation,
Spoke with trees, far and wide.

A gentle breeze brushed my skin,
I asked the tree, like an old friend,
How does it feel when a child departs,
Leaving you alone to face the end?

The tree smiled, silent and wise,
A wrinkled face, no tears in sight.
Yet in its eyes, a sorrow grew,
As the breeze whispered, soft and true.

Then came the breeze, tender yet sharp,
Carrying away the leaves, a part,
The joy I felt now seemed a thorn,
For the breeze had left the tree forlorn.

I asked, Why do you weep, dear tree?
Take back your leaves, don't let them flee!
The tree replied with a voice so deep,
They were dead, but I held them to keep.

The breeze, though harsh, was kind, you see,
It helped me shed the past with ease.
It knows the truth and clears the air,
And now I sleep, without a care.

So the tree, with sorrow in its eyes,
Rested beneath the winter skies.
Its tears had fallen, yet it knew,
The breeze had come to make it true.

wowww nice