My Favorite View
 

is the one from my window

when I’m in bed, ready for sleep.

For a millennium, I could stare at my maple tree

with its wide branches that tap on my screen

so I can comfort her during a heavy storm.

At night the lights

from the street lamps in the park 

illuminate my tree’s leaves

with the incandescence of a fire.

In the moonlight,

against the denim sky, 

my tree’s viridescent leaves 

wave with the grace of royalty,

greeting her people below.

My tree deserves the best words;

our bond is stronger than her branches

that welcome her morning birds

who serenade me with their charming 

and melodious songs.

When I was small, I wished for a house

and a big green yard that held a tree

I could climb high and maybe build a fort in.

I’ve never lived in a house or had a yard.

Nevertheless,  I’ve always had a tree,

and I know everyone can see her whenever

they want, but I love her

she belongs to me.

​

- Misha Puello Brasil