Within the village, in its heart
lived a grand old Banyan tree;
A living symbol, sign and part
of a world born wild and free.
Old women came at dawn to pray,
to offer garlands to their Lord;
while their men, old, wise and grey
discoursed at length in wise accord.
Young maidens coyly raised their eyes
at young men in meditation;
Their secret hearts hid in disguise,
but smiled in contemplation...
And children came in happy hordes,
to jump and swing from branch to branch;
Their laughter song a sweet reward,
a never ending avalanche!
The tree grew tall with memories,
of all it held for centuries...
©
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