Cherry tree poem

Cherry tree poem by Ruskin bond

Cherry Tree

Eight years have passed

Since I placed my cherry seed in the grass.

“Must have a tree of my own,” I said,

And watered it once and went to bed

And forgot; but cherries have a way of growing,

Though no one's caring very much or knowing.

And suddenly that summer near the end of May,

I found a tree had come to stay.

It was very small, five months child,

Lost in the tall grass running wild.

Goats ate the leaves, the grass cutter scythe

Split it apart and a monsoon blight

Shrivelled the slender stem...... Even so,

Next spring I watched three new shoots grow,

The young tree struggle, upward thrust

Its arms in a fresh fierce lust

For light and air and sun.
I could only wait, as one

Who watched, wandering, while Time and the rain
Made a miracle from green growing pain.......
I went away next year-
Spent a season in Kashmir-

Came back thinner, rather poor,
But richer by a cherry tree at my door.
Six feet high my own dark cherry,
And I could scarcely believe it-a berry.

Ripened and jeweled in the sun,
Hung from a branch-just one!
And next year there were blossoms small
Pink, fragile, quick to fall

At the merest breath, the sleepiest breeze. .....
I lay on the grass, at ease,
Looking up through leaves at the blue
Blind sky, at the finches as they flew

And flitted through the dappled green.
While bees in an ecstasy drank
Of nectar from each bloom and the sun sank
Swiftly, and the stars turned in the sky,
And moon-moths and singing crickets and l
Yes, I! — praised Night and Stars and tree:
That small, the cherry, grown by me.

                                    - Ruskin Bond

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