Make-Believe

Make-believe The olive tree had three trunks Siamese triplets? It was old and gnarled, some of its branches had no leaves and it was lost in an abstract, cosmic dream and not aware of its surround; I touched the perennial and thus gave it soul. A mild breeze blew, a fluttering of leaves and the three could see the blue sky where a silvery bird flew northward glinting in the sun. It could also see how cute other trees looked, when aware how ugly it was dawn dew dripped from leaves. Wished it could be a cosmic dream again and not know of time and place. But look, its tears had fertilised the ground and around its trunk flowers so rare they had still to get a Latin name, sprung up from red/rusty soil. They are my creation I have created beauty out of my distress, the plant whispered as in awe. My children, must shade them from the hot sun and bitter winter rain. Vanity be gone, and see, on its naked branches green leaves grew,