The pregnant tree has never dared to let a sunray pass through its leaf-filled twigs, until the witty wind let out a happy sigh that made the stubborn tree dance for a while.
As the branches swayed with the wind, the rays has finally reached the tree’s inner soul. It was then it realized how it needed some sun to fill its gloomy, hidden holes.
Now let me tell you, I am the tree and you are my sun. And I am glad that I let you in.
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer