Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Pine

Lone, solitary, tall, and majestic,
The Pine stands there, looking so proud,
The sky above, the hills beyond,
And caressed gently by a cloud.

As I look out of the arched window,
I think she looks beautiful and fine,
Without a care in the world, she stands,
And I realize, I so envy the pine.

Swaying gently, she flirts with the wind,
And romances the golden morning rays,
She lets the dew drops kiss her gently,
And tantalizes the sky with her charming ways.

And suddenly, I realize, I too can be free,
I'm a prisoner, a slave, only to my thoughts,
My soul, can it be chained, if it refuses to be?
I open the door, and then, I step out.

I spread out my arms and look up at the sky,
The sun now smiles warmly at me,
A song fills my heart, a light, my soul,
I dance with the universe, to the eternal melody.


My Musings... said...

nice preets! keep'em comin'!

rk said...

the poetess gets merged with the pine in a moment of creative indulgence with nature ,,the pine is just a symbol..the poetess must be pining for such moments from the abode of her concrete jungle,