tree..

they are cutting that tree -
in front of me;

it is a tall tree –
very tall –
as if to touch the sky;

it is so strong in its soul –
evident by its flowering;

it has a beautiful existence within it –
as existence so lovely;

it likes to live its life –
with all others..
with the leaves..
with the branches..
with the flowers..
with the birds..
with the nests..
with the ants..
with all its dependents..

--00--

it always provides a cool shadow -
a shadow that is heartful..
they are cutting it – right in front of me..

--00--

its stem so hard as of rock -
the axe broken within the second blow..
they examining and finding ways to cut it with ease..

--00--

me go near the tree..
as usual it greets me –
with its dancing leaves in the wind..
me caress it with my looks;
feel its firmness - with tears;
me stand there still -
without knowing - what to do?
me see a leaf falling, flying towards me..
“a token of affection..”
immersing myself in that moment..

--00--

they start their wish..
take their own time -
they too hard triers –
as of this tree..
with lot of sweat –
they are cutting the sweet tree..
the axe piercing its laps, its waist..
stopping hands are cut down with vigour..
they pull it down –
just pull down it in the floor..

they are going for rest –
after resting the tree on earth..

--00--

deep hurt drag me towards the tree..
just look at the spot – where they cut..
me see the sign – of the blood flow within the tree..
a dark brown colour – in the core of the wood..
the veins built up by the tree – over the years -
shattered down by the axe of the men..

--00--

my hands touch that spot..
my senses stop working, my mind too..
me stand still..
me feel – me have to lie on the tree and me DID..

--00--

me may expect a leaf to fall and fly towards me..
as
“a token of affection”
from above..
from the sky..
me may expect -
till my death..

--00--

(tribute to my dad -
on his death anniversary..)

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