Mind Tales

This poem captures the subtle feeling of absence or 'missing' something essential every time we decide not to do something because of the so-called 'naive idealism' we despise. It captures that call within each one of us that we begin to ignore as we grow, and eventually forget what it even is. It is that wonder for the universe, for the self, that we outgrow, and take pride, or even don't realise its fading steps, not because our natural capacity to listen to it disappears but because we are taught to value the "greater" and more "practical" concerns of everyday life. I am a sapling. I am smaller than where you thoughts can go. I am smaller than you -  the thick trunk mighty. My fellow greens  talk of admiring you. Your height, your closeness to the sky, Your reach to the uneven patches of soil white. I often wonder if the white patches of soil up there feel like home, Just like the brown here. But, that's my only admiration. Sorry, not you....