Although this poem doesn’t present the art of bonsai in a particularly positive light, it was inspired partly by how much I want my own bonsai tree to care for. I was posting pictures of them in my journal just this morning. The poem was also inspired by my love for words with multiple meanings. I’ve tried writing several poems with scientific terms (usually used in a different way than normal) as the title, and I think the title of this one works best of all of them.
My soul is like a bonsai tree,
stunted and small.
You wrap me in fine wire
that slices the toughest skin,
twisting me into perfection until
I can no longer
hold up my own weight.
I want to put off crazy upshots,
to reach into infinite space
without a fear of the pruning shears,
to grow into a shape
only I could dream of.
I am afraid I will one day feel
the difference between myself and an oak.