The Tree That Watched Us Forget
Batam, Indonesia
2025, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
I stood for a hundred quiet years,
roots curled beneath your childhood swings,
where your feet once carved joy into soil,
and laughter tangled thick in the air.
I was never just wood.
I was the silence that held your weight,
the breath between your growing pain.
You pass me now—
spine folded,
phone in hand,
eyes tethered to the screen.
As if I were no more
than a shadow on your concrete road.
The dirt you used to dig with bare hands
buried beneath glass towers
that never remember spring.
You called it progress.
You named it pride.
But sunlight never braided itself
into steel
like it did through my leaves.
The murmur of streams winding softly by,
the gentle sigh of grass beneath morning dew,
the distant hum of bees in blooming lavender—
all muffled by sirens and smoke.
And somewhere in the noise,
you stopped listening.
Will you remember
the swing’s soft creak,
the dirt under your nails,
the scent of rain on damp earth?
Will you remember
the way wind wove through your hair,
how your laughter startled the crows,
and the endless sky
held in your gaze?
Reflection
Growing up in the city, I often notice how easy it is for people to pass by trees without noticing them. The constant noise of traffic often drowns out the quiet presence of trees, birds, and the wind. often drown out the quiet presence of trees, birds, and the wind. We hurry through crowded streets, eyes fixed on screens, rarely ever slowing down to feel the wind or hear the rustle of leaves. I began thinking about the trees we grow up around and how they witness so much of our lives, yet we often forget they are even there. This inspired me to write from the perspective of a tree, imagining it as a quiet observer of change, loss, and disconnection. I realized how important it is to rebuild our relationship with the natural world, even in the smallest ways. Nature doesn’t ask for attention. It just continues to exist. But that connection, once broken, changes not only the environment but us too. Nature remembers us, even when we forget it. And maybe, if we slow down and look up from our screens, we’ll remember it too.