A Tree’s Dilemma by Ravindra Tandon
Alas, I am stuck
In the crevices of time
Root, branch and leaf,
And all my persuits
To extricate myself
From this mess
are staunchly thwarted
Facing stiff resistance
From my own ilk,
My unruly branches
A nearly crooked trunk
With its covetous bark
Rough and dark,
Leaves, tender and ancient,
Whistling two hoots for me in the wind
Sitting tipsy on the roof of sorrow
Of their forefathers
Like the telephone wires abuzz in war zones-
Bearers of the bad news
As if possessed
With primordial evil spirits,
Leaves newly minted
Published one after the other
In quick succession
With tender veins
In paper thin, translucent parchments
Cheerily admired by a bunch of prancing squirrels
Chasing bristled tails of one another
In the company of a scarlet macaw
Tarrying again and again
To inspect the newest,
light green and brown leaf twins
Like a set of nascent babies
Freshly brought home from nature’s maternity
To the undiluted exhilaration of their older siblings.
O Macaw,
When will I be a squirrel,
With a bottlebrush tail?
Can’t I be a three striped one?
To scamper about,
Sans branch and root and leaf and trunk,
Wrapped in a wrinkled winter-coat.
If this cannot be
Let me be born as a daisy
For a day,
Before I am swept in the breeze.
