Bonsai

In a room where shadows wane,

Stands a bonsai by the sill,

With leaves of green, like tiny sails,

It basks in sunlight's thrill.

Its roots entwine in shallow earth,

A world in miniature,

The window's light, both soft and warm,

Brings life to every spur.

The morning rays caress its boughs,

In patterns pure and bright,

A dance of time and light unfolds,

With each new dawn's delight.

The tree, a silent sentinel,

Of peace and tranquil days,

Its branches stretch toward the pane,

In harmony, always.

And as the sun sets in the west,

The bonsai, still, it stands,

A testament to beauty's grace,

In nature's gentle hands.