On a sea strand,
Have you watched empty shells
Mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
And from shore to sea?
Often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
With jagged and broken edges
Colourless and empty
Lying half buried under the sand,
Among many castaways,
Waiting for the mother or father wave
To wash me away.
How tedious is my voyage
Shuttling from father to mother
And from mother to father
Unable to openly confess
Who weighs more
On the balance of preference
Through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
Am I a puffer fish
Being toxic, the fisher men have discarded?
Or a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder! I often ask myself!
Destined to grow
In mercurial climes,
Planted in arid shallow soil
With the tap root trimmed,
I, a stunted bonsai!
Still I dream to be a towering tree,
That in profusion gives fruits and shade
A midget aspiring to be a Goliath
A hollow reed,
Longing at once to be the singer and the song!
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (A Bonsai by Valsa George )
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