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Talking to Trees

by Pallavi Ghosh
(New Delhi, India)

As I often feel unruffled
I come to you.

When one cannot hug trees
With closed eyes;
And feel warm.
Cannot hear the slime running through them;

And 100 percent of what I thought,
Boils down to 50 per cent of I want to talk;
And through a continued process of evaporation,
10 per cent of what I actually say.
Noise mostly;
Gibberish.

One can talk still right?
Talk to trees.
Walking in an avenue,
Talking to a battalion of trees,
Who look retired and wise;
Stooping and listening intently
To my blah blah.

But at times,
When I have my magician’s hat on
I become sly. Little impish.
And push
The imagination of another language
Into you;
So that when others hug you and hear your beat
Some magic drops fall upon them
Like the famous rabbit trick,
And they come more often
To hug you.
Since I cannot.
I can only talk.
Gibberish.