(This poem, much like the tree itself, speaks of beauty that is soft and understated, but lasting in its effect. It invites the reader to take a moment of peace in the presence of nature’s quiet elegance, much like the Indian Cork Tree does for the city of Bengaluru.)
In quiet corners of a sunlit street,
A tree stands tall, its branches meet,
With flowers white as pure as snow,
Whispers soft, a gentle glow.
Beneath your branches, the world seems far,
You offer calm where no troubles are.
In your shadow, white petals fall,
Bringing beauty and peace to one and all.
In the cool night breeze, you sway so light,
A quiet sentinel in the cloak of night.
Oh, Cork Tree, white in bloom,
You ease the soul, dispelling gloom.
Under moon’s soft gaze, the white blooms rise,
Silent whispers of peace in night’s soft skies.
Fragrance floats, in the air so still,
A balm to the heart, a quiet will.
Beneath its shade, the world slows down,
It casts away each worry and frown,
With every bloom, a soothing sigh,
As moonlight dances from the sky.
The Cork Tree, silent, wise, and grand,
A peaceful balm for every hand.
Come sit beneath, breathe in its grace,
And find your heart in a tranquil space.
scribo ad LX 