Treasure Island

Piyush Kaushal

(3rd feb 1986)

The Oak Tree


He stood alone on the hill,

through dusk to dawn

His roots dug deep,

deeper into thoughts

Thoughts of sunlight,

and the rays of hope

For his progenitors,

for the leaves, the branches
Thoughts of monsoon,

when summers pinched

And of winters,

When rains soaked his tears

He was always thinking,

for he was The Oak Tree

He was proud of the leaves,

that spawned his shadow

He endowed branches,

that unified his euphoria

The roots were his strength,

his indelible self

The only hope,

that touched his revere

He always loved them,

for he was The Oak Tree

He braved ages,

and the swindling time

He fought the storm,

the drought and the quivers

To strangers he bore resilience,

a resilience against the blistering swelter

He was always like this,

for he was The Oak Tree

His leaves changed color,

much like the weather

The branches tore his skin,

he wanted them to brave his age

Deserted he stood,

with his shadow

For his good days,

for leaves and birds and greenery

He always waited,

for he was The Oak Tree

There was a friend, a brother

a father, and a lover

for there was "The Oak Tree…"

Submitted: Friday, August 31, 2012

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