What do we look for?
There is the ground and there are the trees,
Erupting themselves, or being dragged, dragged by the sky
Some owned, some orphaned
The ages of their leaves are sprightly
While the truth is in the
Confusing, patternless tunnels of the bark.
The bark, that stands,
That bends, that sometimes never really rises,
As if in genuine hatred of itself
The bark and the silent ground between trees
That is where our feet must be
Soil filling the spaces of our soles-
Pressing and secretly conveying
The sadness of leaves.
This is for a competition organised by HP LaserJet and Indiblogger on the theme of Color- To dream of the "ground" as black and to then rust it with the Trees..some ivory and some gold.. Brings a melancholy of colors..playing with each other..blending with vengeance!