Editor's Choice
Theme: Suffering

The Bleeding Tree

tree in bloom.jpg
There’s a tree that bleeds on the hill,
Or so they say. Each time
In the valley a tree is cut or a branch
Broken, a leaf plucked, it bleeds.

Now, I have crossed the river
And taken the roving path
Across the valley. There’s no tree
Where they said it stood.

It must have become
A piece of wood
Or a chair or table
A window frame or door knob.

Someone has even thoughtfully
Gouged out its roots—there’s only a mount
Of burnt grass here.
The sun is setting beyond the valley.
The river has darkened.
And now in the distant hills
All trees are bleeding, all day.
Image © (c) S Murali


More By  : Prof. Murali Sivaramakrishnan

Views: 1355     Comments: 1

Comments on this Poem

Comment Very touching. Elevating thoughts. Let our hearts bleed.

Madathil Rajendran Nair
17-Feb-2013 03:32 AM

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