The Tree

The Tree

Aeons   ago, I emerged

Stretched myself to the world

Clutched on, with my fragile roots

As I felt the whiteness melt away

Then, I remember, the young Earth

My mother, and I the infant sap

I embraced the amiable breeze

And basked in the glory of the radiant

Wondered how, with eloquent ease

Flowed the water, with its clear grace

Nourished my roots, and strengthened

If I had eyes, I would have seen

How, emerged forms of life

Of various sorts, of various sizes

And many others of my kind

Holding fast and breathing out

Sustaining life

The breeze would tell me

All what he saw

The tales of east and lore of west

And yes, about the creature best

Set him apart from all the beasts

The species, destined to conquer the world

Though fragile, is  gifted

But alas, their greed and thoughtlessness

And some sadist fancy induced the kind

To turn against their kith and kin

Do what they themselves call ‘sin’

The breeze himself, of chemical woe

Blurted out the terrible truth

Of how they turned out a foe

To us, who fed them, sheltered them

And from us, made a home

I hear the mourns of birds and beasts

And for our kind, a massacre

To build themselves

They say , a home

Of concrete and of stone

My kind, felled, one by one

Gasped through the grip of death

That with a sharp, gleaming axe

Piercing a slow, painful end

I see that nightmare, but still, hold on

And hope, a day, that they would see

And then, would come back to me

And I will keep waiting, day and night

With my wooden arms stretched wide.