We dream trees off a  highway
At a home away from city buzz.

A snail would crawl our garden
From the fence to a grass patch

And eternity passed like dream
A snail in its absolute no hurry.

But we cannot run away from it
Where eternity goes unnoticed.

We could only shrink a dream
To banyan tree in a plastic pot.

We make music of a  mild day.
Bonsai art gives us our dreams.

(remembering Mary Oliver’s poem “A dream of Trees”)