Sound of Scraping of Shovels

This banyan tree on the wayside pasture
boughs cradling the nests secure
the birds of blue return, 
verdant foliage making shade serene
the scorched travelers rest awhile,
the tree revels in pride.

The winds of harsh time take the toll
gaping trunk wrenches the soul,
defoliated, the skeleton stands stripped.
The birds don’t return,
the travelers pass by,
in sorrow the shadowless tree tracks the setting sun.

Until the storm comes
lays the tree on the ground it stood so long firm,
shovels scrape the soil, fills the void,
buries the last remains of its roots.

In the twilight hours of loneliness
as I see dark clouds gather on the horizon
the sound of scraping of shovels
returns to me louder and louder
from the empty pasture
where the banyan tree once was,
and I wait for the storm.

March 7, 2019
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Leiser Avatar
March 7, 2019 at 6:54 PM
Amazingly beautiful and so creative in inception, Subimal! Excellent poetic write! :)
Sinha-Roy Avatar
March 10, 2019 at 12:58 AM
Thank you, Laura for your visit and for your nice comments.
Gorelick Avatar
March 7, 2019 at 11:08 AM
Outstanding work. Love how you worked the shovels in...You made me feel for your loss. BG
Sinha-Roy Avatar
March 10, 2019 at 12:58 AM
Thank you so much. Your comments are much appreciated.
Marcum Wong Avatar
March 7, 2019 at 5:43 AM
This is simply outstanding Subimal! The amount of your heart that you include in your poetry shines brightly my friend. I love your love for the Banyan and how you personified that magnificent tree. A sad loss. A Fave! Beautifully written as always. xxoo : )
Sinha-Roy Avatar
March 7, 2019 at 7:00 AM
Thank you so much, Connie for your visit and for your encouraging comments. In most of us there is a banyan tree.
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