I AM A TREE?


My mind is like roots, confused and aimless.
My soul is like leaves , light and vulnerable.
My heart is like branches, directionless and weak.
My potential is like fruits , capable but unwilling.
My emotion is like stem , tough and gloomy.
My thought is like flowers , soft and tiny.
Overall I am a tree , bound to my place and counting the droplets of rain over the passing sand through my hand.
Why can’t I be a tree , which gives life free.
Why can’t I be a tree, which grows for others.
Why can’t I be a tree, which teaches the lesson of tolerance and patience.
Why only that tree which I don’t want to be, which the world cuts down, which the people abandon, which the birds avoid , which the rain is ashamed to nurture, which the sunlight try to escape from.
But I know I am the tree which holds nests on every branch ,whose every fruit gives life to others, which the droplets are proud to stay on , which the sunlight is glad to play hide and seek with ,which the world tries to conserve ,which the people find place to dwell, whose flowers find place in the temple.


But is this an illusion or a myth? Which tree am I ? 

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