Poem Hunter
In The Trees
(8 December 1925 - 2 March 1972 / Ambala / British India)

In The Trees

Last night, sleep embraced me in the trees.
There was a lullaby twirling among the trees.

The moon came out from the caves of the horizon.
A brush of fire painted the canopy of the trees.

As the rains fell, the toiling woodcutters
Lifted up their flutes weaving melodies in the trees.

Was it wind or an emerging gust of my own thought?
Who gives me a nameless call among the trees?

People grew restless in the safety of their houses;
While far away in the open, a storm disturbed the trees.

The call of the seasons invites my treading footstep
Into the depths of wonderful, unfamiliar trees.

What beings of other worlds inhabit the city's far side.
Go and visit dwellings concealed among the trees.

Ochre gold, crimson, blue and opal white
I have seen the palette shades quivering among the trees.

The sad queen of perfume in the forest,
For nights I have encountered among the trees.

For long, the intenseness of those eager eyes
Kept up an air of radiance in the trees.

Suddenly, the illuminating shafts of light
Turned away from settlements to the wildness of the trees.

The denizens of the woods were frightened through the night.
There was Adam's Son lurking among the trees.

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