Two frail brittle arms now well past their prime,
reached out to its mother seeking yet more time,
though it had lived a span of many scores of years,
plenty there was to be done to spread more cheers.
Shelter fellow beings that ever lived in its boughs,
feed who came now and then eager to browse,
shield all those who sought succour in its shade,
gifting blooms fruit and twigs to all it could aid.
A knowing smile on her lips mother waved a hand,
and blushing skies rained warm gold upon the land,
as much the tree had to give it needed to survive,
cause as the ages passed by few like it would thrive…
few like it would thrive…
– Narendra Nayak © 2019