The neem tree cried yesterday
It had seen me grow...
It shed lush, bitter tears,
And hustled about in pain
As I got ready, bejeweled and made-up;
It suddenly began to rain.
The neem laughed at the irony
At relief and salve unasked;
It wanted to brood in solitude,
pampering the pain.
My grandfather would sit below the tree,
Bare-bodied, with only pajamas on.
The neem would sway from side to side
to greet the old man a good morn.
As I ran about from shrub to shrub
Marvelling at the nests littles birds made,
My granpa would hold out his arms
in an effort to embrace...
Grandfather is gone,
the tree sways in loneliness.
It has grown heavier under the burden of memories
And servants urge that the tree be relieved.
As I agreed, in a hurry to go
The neem tree overheard.
A loud cry it muffled.
The neem tree saw me grow
The tree saw me go.