Jayshree Singh
5 min readOct 30, 2022


The Child in the Wizard Tree's Refuge

The days of dream, the time of sleep prolongs until a memory haunts the glance of reflection in one’s mind’s eye to give a wake — up call to the past that lives in memory to rest the subconscious mind.

The Child in the Wizard Tree’s refuge expects always for a pretext especially when all around quietness, he

himself all alone, not any sense of meditation, rather a sense of being in the secured shade of a tree, which the child never wish to part with, yet has to go away as the dawn sets in to call Sunbeams to wake up all around especially those who seems as benefactors, foster- variables, when the wizard tree in the dark night even though voiceless, yet speaks in the mind of the child as if it had been only there at night to console the lonesome being to be dumb, but not to be a fool in the the illusory fools paradise of the people around whether in times of young age or in worldly sense. The wizard a silent twin-being to lighten the calm mind of the child, to let him be not emotionally weak in midst of eccentricities of the daytime, that seemed to be in light awakening the benefactors and unknown circles of kith and kins to cross-check the relativity of the kid to them and the gravity of inclusivity of the child with them. The wizard tree silently invisibly frames an enlightened aura around the child in the silence and darkness of the night to let child be in flow with tangible and intangible space and time to be covered up by the child when all in Sunshine seem synchronized in reality of assimilation and appropriation.


The silence of nights, the soundless nights being undisputed and undisturbed by any howling sounds of wild beasts, or by any hoots of owls, only what could kiss the soundless nights is the cool breeze that flies past the skin and arouses a pretext to not to sleep, not to fall in any deep slumber, so the child may remain awake in bed at night, so the child may feel restless to get down the bed, tempts itself to take a stroll in the lawn, beyond the verandah, look like a dormitory in airy summer for a large family to be all together at night, in their own separate mattress laden cots, faced towards the lawn but under the covered shed of verandah all at rest after a tiresome day, spent with all oneness each of their presence, as if no life in separation ever experienced by any of the members of the large family; yet a tree in front of the lawn a patron to all, as if had shared all pros and cons of each member, or had been a part in vicissitudes of life or had been inherently involved in joyful occasions as if giving shelter to all to save them from scorching heat or from robust windy weather or being like an umbrella in conditions of unexpected showers or drizzle of rainy weather; when not the tree as patron appeared smiling, when not in full ornaments adoring the members who too very much reciprocally endeared the tree as patron; the same huge tree as a patron at night to the child appeared a figure of wizard drawing the little child to sit and brood, to chat and to grumble as if the child as an incarnated being with its transmigrated Soul fixing in its earthly form the strains of a ravished spirit, struggling in day hours to adapt to the nitty gritty conditions, attempting to derail the load of untoward topsy turvy situations or the child whose free spirit looking for a pretext to escape these limits and to reach to the patron tree without any bar or delay, so when the night falls in, when the starry sky falls out to trickle in the child the notion to seek the patron tree for sharing the child’s meditative mind, to be the light in the surrounding darkness, to be the only onlooker to eliminate the sense of loneliness, to be the shooter to uproot the inadvertent notion of alienation; it is the tree the patron the first speaking tree in the life of child that taught the lesson of love, the concept of go green, the chapter of parenting, the index of parts of speech that made child later on to follow the dictionary of large evolved spectrum of life just like the swinging birches of a tree the patron; it is the shade of the tree that always remained a sign of comfort when the child started to grow big to understand the world in order to spread what the speaking tree every night whispered to the truant child out of the sleeping time from dormitory, since it is the tree the patron till date has been giving a call in the subconscious state of child to return to the native patron who has not yet forgotten its little caller, little child, little seeker of knowledge, wisdom and friendship. The tree the patron comes to mind of that child who has grown up now, mystically directs its whispers to save that innocent child from the misdirections of the misdirected beings. The continuity of that mystical charm is still as a conjurer follows the child, who is now a grown up one, but yet very much closer in space and time with that Speaking Tree the patron.

Jayshree Singh

https://medium.com/@1967jayshreesingh A prolific creative writer as a researcher and critic so credited with Publications more