A rose tree & its’ wonderland

A rose tree, beside the hill

Witnesses splashing translucent

Stream, flowing down the hill,

Flourishing, wavy, shiny, fluffy.

The rose tree bows down to the nuts,

Woods and green oak leaves

That stream carries

From hills to plain,

To the land of unknown.

The rose tree speaks to the water layers

Every time when it drops its’ roses

With one desire to be carried to

A land of wonders.

Where do they go?

The stranger water streams and layers

Cannot talk about the old deals

That rose tree had with earlier ones.

A question that keeps it busy

Day and night..

That splendid pink bud,

When blown

Stretched curves on rocks

Shadowed the valley in pink

When it bowed to stream

When it agreed to un-branch

Where did they take it?

That bud, that crossed thirty petals

When it chose to shatter

When it filled hilly streams with

Red, pink and white

Rose tree watched it with a happy heart

Thinking where it goes..

In aspirations to reach to wonderland

They all bloomed

What happens to them all?

Did they meet what they meant for?

Wondered the rose tree

Every day

One stormy night

It loosened its grip in the soil and rocks

Uprooted itself

It flew with streams

In search of the petals the roses

And all those streams it spoke with


Strangers, the streams took it

Up and down they shook it

Aghast it lost its senses

To the plain it kept repeating

After all shocks and thud

With water, soil, rock and mud

It still remained alive

Till the time

When it was dropping from a long hill

In the lap of deep stream

It watched the field of hopes

Full of thousand little roses

It closed its eyes

In contentment

In several years

the roses

All went to the right place.

Over the years

Rose tree never realized

The petals and the seeds

They all went down to the fertile land

And grew up plants

and trees there

And turned the whole land pink

A wonderland


The whole life it dreamt of a wonderland

That wasn’t there

Yet even in its most beautiful imagination

In its most positive energies

In pure, innocence, potentiality

It contributed

And the seeds met soil and water

The river shore was turned into

A beautiful rose bed

A rose tree’s wonderland.