Our Little Orange Sapling Poem by Gita Ashok

Five years ago I ate
an orange one wintry day
and tossed a seed carelessly
into a pot in my balcony.

Three weeks later
there was a surprise!
What did I see?
Two tiny shoots popping out
from the soil in glee.
To me it didn’t seem like a weed
For I knew I had thrown in an orange seed.

Seeing it grow a little bit every day
proved to me that an effort does pay.
With utmost care we nurtured it
with water and nutrients that deemed fit.

I made my sapling listen to melodious music
from the music system inside.
It would swing from side to side
to the rhythm of the gentle breeze outside.

I kept staring at its lush green ovoid leaves
and tiny thorns all around.
It smiled all the time
and never once frowned.

Three years later when it grew two feet tall,
the pot in which it grew seemed really small.
So we transplanted it into a bigger one
where it could grow freely and have more fun.

I dreaded taking a long vacation
for fear of its neglect and dehydration.
I also feared the naughty squirrel
that put our poor sapling in constant peril.

And now after five years, it stands three feet tall.
My husband thinks it needs a better place after all.
So two days ago, early in the morning
without much of a warning,
he took our sapling for a ride in the car
to a place luckily not very far.

He transplanted it out in the open beside the street.
And now it has to face all the dust and heat.
All I can do is to pray to the Lord for rain.
Rain will to some extent ease my pain.
I want to see our sapling carve out its own destiny
and go on to become the most beautiful tree.

This morning when I told my husband how sad I feel,
he said it’s time for the sapling—
our child— to leave the nest
for that is in its best interest.

A thought then crossed my gloomy mind
that very soon a new niche
our children will have to find.
And as my husband said we have to let go,
I agreed it is good to let our sapling go.
It is best for it to be amidst Mother Nature
so that it can build its own bright future.

Whenever I go for a walk now,
I’ll surely visit my sapling’s new dwelling place
hoping that it will continue
to recognize my face as always.


3/8/2010,1: 30 pm