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”)