The Tree

THE
TREE

It stood still beside the thoroughfare
The path I walk everyday to the college
When I first saw it
It gave me an impression of old age wisdom
My friend said it might be 200 years old
But I refuted to hundred less
Its stupendousnes had its own greatness
It was a witness to my daily rituals of life
When I saw it on the day I was low
It would cheer me up with wide open embrace
With the sun rays filtering through its branches
And the sweet chirpings of countless birds
But as I recollect how foolishly I would
Haste upon the race of life and
Take no notice of its grandeur
But there were some time when my mind
Was light and fluffy then I stopped to stare its
Enormity and got spellbound by its beauty
And even captured it with my camera
May be the routine sight of it might have
Borne  the insignificance of its presence
But yesterday it was different,
It was wounded and it was on low
But I could not spread my embrace
Like it did to me
The tree bore the image of an old guy
On the deathbed crying for the mercy
But the devil was upon it wrenching its parts
Cutting its huge boughs on which children used to play
Razing down its trunk
Then suddenly I felt sad about it
And wondered how the area would look
Without its comforting presence
My friend also resounded the same tone
And I could guess it had silently befriended us
For which we didn’t even bother to treat the same
Now we are feeling the loss and sadness
For a fellen tree or moreover for us
How it was standing formidably and firmly for years
But the brutal humanity snatched its age in a day