The Windy Day

• Shrie Mutumagesan, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2017

Other swaying trees just like me, with the rusty old look,
Anxious of the unbalanced movement, not knowing how the day will end ,
Anger of my mighty roots, clipping strong onto the faithful soil,
Progressing like a snail, through the unreliable day,
My courageous branches depending on the generous stem for their support.

Looking for forgiveness from the wind,
Feels like karma attacking us for no courteous reason,
Making the day looking for justice between us two,
Tolerance of my stem, calmness of my roots, humbleness of my branches,
must wake the unconsciousness of the rough winds.

The wind then decreased step by step, sounding not to never attack us again,
The howling vibration leaving my body with a feeling of pride and amazement.
I can hear applauses praising towards me,
As the interrogative wind gently saying goodbye,
Giving me the opportunity to let my tears out,
As the day ends...