Gulmohar : The Benevolent Prince
I remember a tall gulmohar tree right beneath my flat balcony in another city where I lived for many years. A veritable giant of shade and cool, it still stands tall over a carpet of orange blossoms it shed repeatedly. It might have shed a billion flowers during my stay there, and yet never had I seen it barren. Now that I'm of age to understand the silent message it passed on, the essence of rebirth and its significance, I revere it in a new light. This piece below is my tribute to a long time friend who taught me so much through his silence.
Stooped atop a bramble, the sparrow,
Eyes the conqueror's shade,
A young prince, he, untamed,
Flicks gold morsels on curved lane narrow,
A thousand suns, adorned, weakly fade,
New dawns follow his offerings so famed.
A carpet of saffron, a tint of yellow,
His parceled love in packets of hope,
Shed in extravagance o'er a muted land,
His message to raise spirits turned mellow,
His gifts to a world that piteously copes,
Of a thousand suns lost to grief at hand.
The sparrow, in avarice, seizes a branch,
Her careless perch tosses further gold,
The prince smiles in windy charm, rich wistful mirth,
His crown he promises the polished ranch,
Bountiful cheer, long decades old,
A thousand faded suns echo the joyous cry of rebirth.
P.S.: I consider myself the sparrow, greedy to experience even an ounce of the thrill of giving.