The Coconut Tree Poem by Neela Nath Das

The magic of my childhood days,
I see thru the filigree works
Of your green pointed leaves.
The mild-yellow light which you
Bore from the sun was the first
Ray I used to catch early in
The morning in our yard.
The fragrance of the flowers,
Still I can remember with the light.
The busy crows with their nestlings
Crowd in my mind simultaneously.
Old Lucas, our gardener told me that
Your shadow acts like clock.
When it was midday, taking a stick,
He once showed me your noon-shadow.
Our holidays became special thus.
And, in the afternoon, the last ray
Of the departing sun shone on the
Tips of your every leaf created
A golden spark around.
At night, the moon poured
The silver drops on your droopy-leaves.
We sleep, the yard sleeps, you sleep....
On our sleeping roof-top your
Shadow played with the vague light.
Your magic went on.
Even now, it's still on,
In my mind's mind,
in my subconscious zone,
In my soul,
On and on.