Ode to A Krishnachura Tree,

Oft when  i pass through
The road to and fro
My busy feet treading through
Grasslands, meadows, plateaus, plains,
Cities, towns, hills,
Seas, rivers, forests deep,
Foliage green growing like creepers,
I find you in springy summers
Standing spreading all over
My little head, (with the waves of dust and heat swallowing
Sent shooting by thousand megapixel bright,
The ever glowing beacon, The Biggest Light,)
In your branches I find red krishnachura blooms,
They dot the sky usually colored,
As if my love has gotten there,
Dotted and painted, so sanguine, red,

O You, the Tree,
Bearing myth of our lovely life
And so much of me,
How often do in me eyes,
I find you, life, giving shelter , like a canopy,

You will probably laugh
Thinking it is not the first time
I have taken you to my office,
To my notebooks,
To my scribbles,
To my leisure,
To my nothingness,
So empty, emptied by You,
So , so made a Void,

But then,
Love mine,
If you come,
So , like that Tree
Giving air oxygenated
To mortal me,
Greening me
Making me sleep
Underneath you,
At your feet,
A Troubadeur me,

How Canst i,
Not sing
An eulogy just
For you, love,
My cynosure
Of eye.


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