It's a poet's tree
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"it's a poet's tree" is not just a play on words-it is a space I return to, where thoughts branch out into verse, and emotions take root in metaphor. This tree has grown quietly within me, fed by moments of silence, wonder, and reflection. Many of these poems were written in the blurred margins of day and night-often typed on a phone, often in a rush to catch a fleeting feeling. But they carry within them more than just emotion. My background in physics and mathematics naturally seeped into the lines-sometimes as metaphors, sometimes as structure, and sometimes as the very rhythm of thought. A...
"it's a poet's tree" is not just a play on words-it is a space I return to, where thoughts branch out into verse, and emotions take root in metaphor. This tree has grown quietly within me, fed by moments of silence, wonder, and reflection. Many of these poems were written in the blurred margins of day and night-often typed on a phone, often in a rush to catch a fleeting feeling. But they carry within them more than just emotion. My background in physics and mathematics naturally seeped into the lines-sometimes as metaphors, sometimes as structure, and sometimes as the very rhythm of thought. After all, the universe speaks in equations, but it aches in poetry. These poems are not answers, but questions left open about love, time, longing, light, and distance. About why a falling apple matters, and why it still hurts. About gravity, not just of planets, but of the heart. If this collection offers you a place to pause, to feel, or to think a little deeper about the invisible forces that move us-then the tree has done its work. These poems are leaves ofmy inner tree-each one shaped by love, silence, longing, and the ever-changing seasons of life. Some carry the fragrance of childhood, others the ache of parting. Many were written in the quiet corners of the day, when the heart spoke in whispers and the world didn't interrupt. If even one poem in this tree offers you shade, fruit, or a breeze of recognition, then this little forest of words has found its purpose.
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