I Am a Sapling: A Reflective Poem on Internal Loss

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.

I am a sapling.


I want to bend and sway

all my life,

Like I do now.

The mere imagination

of standing rigid,

Blocking the graceful winds

because I stand old

is unsettling.

The water that flows

inside me

bubbles.

It ripples

that the winds whirl from

a temporality more ancient.

Newer.


I am a sapling.

I want to remain tender

all my life.

I'm sorry but you, tree

cover all of us under your canopy.

I can't miss

the touch of the sacred beam

that reminds me of the hidden greater

inside my shoot fragile.

I know I am smaller

but I'm happy

I can give others more earth to grow.

What is the use

of taking up all space

for one green

when others too

want the light?

I am a sapling.


I know you call your

size,

Height,

And age,

Growth and duty.

But I can be small and tender

and closer

to the brown's grasp of life

and call it my duty.

I can be smaller

and still bathe in the embrace of the sacred beam

because it reminds me

of the greater within.

I breathe that as my duty.

My duty is wonder too.

I don't know if my power,

My rigidity,

My authority,

My superiority,

My need to protect the so-called "weak,"

Is my duty.

I don't know

if reducing the mystery

of the world around

through simplified answers,

Often far from truth

is wisdom.

I think true truth

is truly truthless.

I don't know.


I am a sapling.

In my tenderness

that I want to be eternal,

I may be crushed.

I may never live as long as you.

But that doesn't scare me

because I am not waiting

to grow old

to fulfil my purpose,

If at all there is any.

I don't want to grow old like you,

I fear that trees like you

would make me lose

me,

The sapling I am.


Gaurav Chandra Tuli

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