Imagine a journey of tree climbing. This poem is about completing the journey. See the poem below.
When I say the tree of life, I really mean this is my life. I am living as this tree. In time, our roots sink deeper into the earth. But that’s alright. I shall wait for the lower trunk to become stronger, then I can proceed. The tree grows, but I don’t grow with it. It’s branches move further and further away from me. And still, I keep thinking and deciding the route I shall take. Carefully noting the stronger limbs that will support me. Without knowing it, there goes the time. I have missed the opportunity to climb.
I have planned to the last detail. There is no was this couldn’t work. Aha! In saying this I reveal the flaw in my design: I never actually did anything!
The years have disappeared, and other things go by. I no longer have the muscles to climb anymore. Now, I can only look up and imagine what beauty is up there.
I simply look up and keep on wishing.
Originally written in 2020
i fear of tangling in the roots of procrastination desire i’ll have none and my time lay wasted
i despise climbing the trunk of learning comfort for one living a decent earning
i long to see above the branches of ambition but i simply look up and keep on wishing
-Writing on Waves