The Birch Tree

Under the birch tree, she gave her vows,
a promise of a never ending love.

she remembered very well,
the fallen leaves-
a carpet under their feet,
the hues and saturations.
Everything.
her mouth gentled into a curve,
the closest thing that came near a slight smile.

She remembered his touch,
warm and gentle,
fingers entwined together,
the laughter which wrapped around this birch tree
when they met.

She sighed and looked back in time,
'So much love' she whispered.
So much love indeed it was.

Maybe the birch tree heard.
Maybe the birch tree saw.

She remembered the tears that were shed
when he had to leave,
duty before heart.
'two years' he whispered
brushing off her tears
'and I'm coming back,
to you'.

She was strong,
'To you', he said' she whispered,
'To me'.

Maybe the birch tree felt.
Maybe the birch tree sighed.

When he came back it was for the wedding,
she was in heaven.
The day before they wedded
they talked about it-
sitting under the birch tree-
of the future they held,
the past and the present.

The leaves of the spring,
were spinning around them,
stars shooting on a 
blissful couple.

Maybe the birch tree shredded them.
Maybe the birch tree smiled.

She came here with her children,
to watch them play,
sometimes alone,
sometimes with him.

Good times,
bad times,
together they shared,
together they cried,
together they laughed.

Maybe the birch tree shared it too.

'Mother' 
A voice aroused her
from her entrancement.
A white clad figure.
Her daughter.
how proud they were, together,
when she was born.

'It's time mother, the procession is about to start'
the white clad figure said.
She added quietly, the dreaded reality,
I'ts time for him to go'.

She didn't hear her.
She didn't want to.


Her heart had stopped,
in the very place it started to feel alive.

she brushed off the tears
which started to trickle down her eye.
One escaped and blotted her white sari.

Maybe the birch tree wept...
Maybe the birch tree cried...

Malsha Walgamage©
 21 December 2009