Woesel, Tenzin

I’m a bare tree, just a bare tree. I bear no flower, no scent, No leaf and no fruit. I stand alone, all alone. I’m a bare tree, just a bare tree. I once had flowers, others envied. A fruits-laden tree, many admired. I had leaves that beautified me. I looked complete but not anymore; I’m a bare tree, just a bare tree. For long I stared at the tree next to me, It looked beautiful just as I used to be. The breeze carried the scent from its flowers. The leaves and the fruits made me feel; I’m a bare tree, just a bare tree. I too had the flowers and the scent. I had the leaves and the fruits. I looked beautiful; not anymore. They left me all alone to say - “I’m a bare tree, just a bare tree.”

I’m not the red rose  you would pick up from the bunch of pretty roses  your lady love would hand you. I’m not one of those grand tulips from the vast fields of Amsterdam where everyone would not hesitate  to pose for a beautiful picture.  I’m just a wild flower on a plain hill, longing for somebody to embrace  the strength, solitude and love that grow along with me.