An Old Banyan Tree Poem by Sachidananda Panda

If Things don't go well as planned or desired
Some blame the tools, some to fate
Few cry foul, either grumble or growl
Some pound their heads on blank walls
Much to one's dismay; if you lag behind
Others are quick to be in the fray

The delicate boundary of happiness
Stands hostage, between success and failure
Vilified by criticism, despite the Volta-face
In the face of an ostensible unease.
At any lone corner; a mother wipes her tears
Faraway from common eyes

Relations fulfill their formalities, only to move ahead
With a bag of assurances or crammed counseling
Learnt long ago, from unrealistic old scriptures
Friends come and go, only to explain their woes.
Toothpicks help much to sneeze aloud
Inflicting deep cuts with their grinning Intimidation
By foes, both old and new

To add more salt to the wound
Queens or concubines settle down
At some new harbour with ships of even keels
For their unfinished dreams to sail smooth
Sensing the rocky terrain and stormy weather
No dearth of excuses, all around to assuage
Rather to aggravate the penury, one is in

In these wandering hours one tends to count
The fallen leaves and boughs that nestled
Chicks of different feathers, too young to fly
Resilient through the seasonal winds for years
Despite the broken boughs that sprawled once
With shades of assurance; Unperturbed...

With Emotions wrapped under the shrunken ribs
Threatening the thunder, with the husky voice
Collecting the residual spent force of hung muscles
Comes calling; as if like a heavenly assurance
Don't worry...! Am still alive...'. At your backyard;
It's your Father; an old Banyan Tree.
To defeat the odds or the storms
That comes on thee

©Sachi-22nd Jun-2020
All rights Reserved