Under the Tree

Under the tree, Sat a man Isolated in his misery. Looked like he was writing Some prose or poetry. And then somebody told me About him, about his life. How sad he was after losing his wife. Since then, I observed that when he got free, He sat there with his diary and wrote Under that tree. Under the tree, He found a soul again. The more he wrote, the more he learned to live The more he learned to live, the more he bloomed Like a fresh flower. He understood that everything happens for a reason And he should learn to live for the people who are near. He realised that he should still live for his son And then, sometimes with son and sometimes alone, He spent some hours Under that tree. UNDER THE TREE Sits a man, Who used to be isolated in his misery Who still writes prose and poetries It is his ambition, his strength. And now, Not just a man but a 'POET' indeed, sits and writes UNDER THAT TREE. 29th March 2017