The Aging Tree

Your sharp blade, your crushing strikes, O axe! Cut me not! Allow my life reach its climax, cut me not, cut me not! My feeble life’s still in my body’s confines My difficult breathing under the canopy of skies No sparkle of hope in my heart shines I am lonely and sad, in my eyes nothing but despair lies The wine of moonlight doesn't filter through my branch's sieve The fireflies illuminate not my lonely dark nights Chicks ‘ave flown; on my bow birds their deserted nests leave No squirrel on my trunk, for its mate fights No butterfly dances on my arms bare No child builds earthen castles on my feet A wanderer no more gets my shade’s care Soon I’ll myself fall and destiny meet A flash back of my deprived, neglected childhood Wasn’t I self-sprouting on a rugged desolate land? Not behind my upbringing a caring gardener stood Fierce winds and lightning lashed me unrestrained Upon me fell the rays of the burning sun enraged Inflicting wounds, ripping my bark and burning tender skin To destroy me was the object that kept each one engaged Clinging to the breast of my mother-earth suckling I begin Lovingly the mother-earth held me to her bosom tight Monstrous was the cruelty and tyranny unleashed The cyclone of adversities engaged me continually in fight Every dagger pointing at me, every sword unsheathed Thus, I grew up as a full-blown luscious tree The clouds welcomed my adolescence unfurling their hairs On my leaves the raindrops engaged in a dancing spree Not one from the host of trees my height and beauty bears But, now isn’t the time to talk about the olden days The claws of time mauled my physique, my dreams and my thought Listen to what my every sinking pulse prays Cut me not, O axe! Cut me not, cut me not.