A tree doesn't die
Just because you cut
And hack it down,
For its roots are well
Preserved in the soil,
And it lies with the Earth, as a daughter
Within her mother's lap,
There it slumbers deep
And dreams of an
Afterlife, when fed with
Rainwater, it slowly
Reconciles itself, then
Peeps through the skin
Of the soil, at the sky,
Winks at the friendly
Sun, and the air nurses it
Back to what it was,
And she vows to grow up.

©Apu Mondal