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If poetry was a tree, it grows underneath. Your so

If poetry was a tree, it grows underneath. Your soul, the soil. Your passion, the water. The root and the shoot, shall not be seen, only the fragrance felt. The tree, underneath, and upside down. The shoot digging deep, the fragrance, soaring high. The deeper it goes, the higher you reach. The leaves wither at autumn, falling onto the soul. Then, spring. A new blossom. A new poem. If poetry was a tree, you're the poem. It shall have autumns and springs, and you shall be reborn. You don't give life to a poem, poetry breathes life unto you. World poetry day! #Poetree Every poem I write breathes new life unto me. Once upon a time, many poems ago, I wasn't the same. Poems hence, I'd not be the same.
If poetry was a tree, it grows underneath. Your soul, the soil. Your passion, the water. The root and the shoot, shall not be seen, only the fragrance felt. The tree, underneath, and upside down. The shoot digging deep, the fragrance, soaring high. The deeper it goes, the higher you reach. The leaves wither at autumn, falling onto the soul. Then, spring. A new blossom. A new poem. If poetry was a tree, you're the poem. It shall have autumns and springs, and you shall be reborn. You don't give life to a poem, poetry breathes life unto you. World poetry day! #Poetree Every poem I write breathes new life unto me. Once upon a time, many poems ago, I wasn't the same. Poems hence, I'd not be the same.
bharathnandibhat2540

Bharath Nandibhatla

New Creator