By Himangi Sharma
Watching a tree sitting idle-
No bird chattering,
No leaf dancing-
Makes me feel like nothing.
Clothes and fingers become strangers
To my numb skin.
No reason left for which I could live,
But I observed how everything was taking its place again,
Moving backwards in the present.
The more I saw that tree,
My mortal body became a
Content self.
All happened after I ate its fruit
And came outside to take another one
Because of what it did to me.
I became the life inside it-
That felt more vibrant than sweet.