The Tree Poem by PRATHAP KAMATH

The tree is not what you have in mind -
the usual stuff
trunk bark roots leaves fruits boughs.
It is not mental stuff
to take at times of laziness
tie a swing on and pendulate
from mind-earth to mind-sky
in the courtyard of childhood.

The tree is a slogan that stood on the railway to be
a question with upright spine on the highway to be
a scuba diver with a time bomb on dams to be
a burning torch on industrial estates to be
a thorn in the soul of woodcutters for timber to be.

The tree is a was that has left its abode in the mind
and is buried in forms exorcised from desire
for more.