The wind–desperate, cold,
notoriously blowing…
ensures
that each leaf falls off
While the crown, unwillingly
sheds its beloved emerald-hued clothing,
The dry trunk stands unperturbed,
keeps waiting
for the arrival of the season of flowering
with the hope of a new beginning.
Despite obnoxious weather’s weathering,
A hope remains tethered to the trunk
that won’t fall, or wilt, or wither off.
A hope that it will stand, well-rooted with grace,
and let winter pass at its pace.
With bright sunlight, it looks forward
To don a new sylvan robing.
Yes, the tree shall spruce up
To welcome the spring.
Dr Shilpa Chakravarty
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