I Wake Up Late Poem by Anil Kumar Panda

I wake up to the sound of trees
Whispering among themselves
Perhaps about my habit of waking
Up late. All the birds are gone to
Pick worms at the river side or to
Be with the farmers in the fields.

They may be whispering about
My laziness. All the clouds have
Veered towards the horizon to
Doze off till descending of eve.
Flowers have already unfolded
Their petals and in a happy mood
Releasing fragrance to the bees.

The trees don't know I was there
With them all through the night.
Scribbling down poems in the
Memory of those trees who are
Gone into the greed of men.
I became a poet last night to let
My pen bleed prayers to save
Those left to sing songs with
The wind in the early morning.

The trees don't know how much
My heart cried last night when I
Could not watch the moon through
Their branches and lulled me to sleep.
You go on whispering. I am happy
To hear your sound when I get up.
May be a little late but you are there.