O Tree!
You were standing
on a piece of land
without harming anyone
swinging your small but
lovely leaves
When the last time I met you
under your soothing shade
baby birds were chirping
on your twigs, you had been
a hopeful destination
to tired mother-wings
Dear Tree!
You reminded me
of the many tales of
ancient Ashrams
and holy Gurus
teaching pupils
under trees like you
I imagined
lovers having nice time
in full moon nights
under your shade
and imagined the moon
peeping through your
dense branches
But I'm sorry, Friend
all that ended up
with your demise.
Yeah, you have
been killed dear, as you know
A man having an iron paw
and a flag of development
in another paw
has uprooted you.
Now you are lying
on the ground.
The baby birds are
in the sands,
mother birds are
hovering around
with restless cries
and all the teachings of
holy Gurus seem to be
pressed down under
a heavy log.
Now
the iron paw is busy
filling your place
by erecting
a concrete pillar.
