A story about a tree, a boy and their destiny... Child and a Tree

www.igallopon.com

There was once a tree

Long had it stood

Through snow, storm and hail

Bearing the test of time and ravages of seasons

To make perfect its art

Of stealing from the Sun some light

Hint of moisture from the air

The essence of the earth it sipped silently

And all its effort

and knowledge, it put

to create the perfect fruit

For which it had come to be a tree

While it waited for the day,

when the one would come

the one for whom

the fruit was meant to be

For the tree had dreamt

When it was but a seed

The one would come and claim its fruit

For the fruit contained the blueprint of his dreams

So the tree perfected its art

And kept its secret to itself

It would know when the one would come

It would then bring out its fruit and be free

Then one day, after the turn of many an age

The passing of many a king and kingdoms

On the passage of many moons and many a season

The tree heard the patter of feet meant for it

Came a little child, and said to his friend:

‘I had a dream, there’s a tree

Which has a fruit meant for me

Were I to have it, I need worry no more

For the fruit contains seeds

to my dream, unseen

As also a map

of how I can make it be!’

The tree sighed, at last its tryst was here

The one for whom it was meant to be

Soon the child would find its fruit

And soon would it fulfill its destiny

Yet the child talked and played and chatted

Paying no attention to the fruit nor the tree

The tree shook its branches, waved its leaves

Swayed its vines, but to no avail it would be

'Oh, unfriendly is the tree' the child cried

'Its leaves shiver and wind through it whooshes

It must be haunted, from here let’s verily flee'

The child picked his cane and turned to his friend

Its then the tree realised

that the keeper of its tryst

Was there, but was blind,

beset it wondered

as to what could it do, what would come out to be?

For the tree couldn’t speak

the tongue of man

An the child couldn’t perceive

the fruit on the tree

The tree was grounded in despair; its fruit would soon fall

The child bewildered wandered about, in search of a dream

While at the two luckstruck life laughed aloud

How silly could some beings be?

So life let them be

the child, the truth and the tree

There was ambrosia to be churned from the strife

Or the tree wouldn’t desire to speak the language of man

Nor would the child desire the will to see some fruit of a tree

The fruit was but a ruse to make them grow

And know that they each had treasures deep within

Else the tree would continue to believe that it was dumb

And the child would forever believe he couldn’t see

  • Abhi

For some reason I can't seem to comment in Medhajournal. I do hope I'll be able to participate in the interesting conversations taking place very soon. :)