Branches shorn of leaves
are invading my horizon, weaving a network of arteries supplying pure thoughts to my
impure mind. The branches have a defiant attitude, devoid
of any pretenses, all the beautiful leaves taken away by the wind as the season of
austerity comes. The barren branches a stark reminder of life's changing colors that
seasons change, happy now, sad, contemplative at another moment. To me, a tree looks far
more beautiful in its simplicity. Just like no two persons, no two snowflakes, no two
clouds are alike, so is the case with trees. Each of us is special in our own way.
Trees are sensitive and reflect human emotions in their own unique way. The wind
rustling through the leaves has the power to exhilirate us, frighten us. Or, just the
quiet presence of a lone warrior can bring about a sombre, respectful mood. Often I wonder
what is it that I see in a tree. I'd pass by a tree and cannot help but notice its beauty,
its weather-beaten limbs, its arteries feeding my mind, adorned with leaves. I have often
compared myself to a leaf in a moment, a leaf that turns yellow, and the wind blows and
takes the jaded leaf far, far away. And, unashamedly, I admire the trees that sustain life,
feed our emotions and keep us grounded with a humble attitude.
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