A tree uprooted

vikas chandra

Never saw a sapling in the place where it stands today
Nor recall ever having dropped a seed astray
And yet it stands tall above all with a dignified presence
Reaffirming its place and space for its moved existence
Alluring but forlorn is the tale of lost generations
Enduring roots, dreams and hopes, pared by colonial ablations

Was it from Bahamas, Bermuda or any other distant humble land?
Yoked to unknown destiny, arrived in droves a godforsaken band
Bartered for nothing but toil and toil for so many eons to come
Rendered rootless, drifting and yearning and striving to grow in a newfound bigoted odium
For the lofty trees of this land resolve that roving shrubs are throwaway weeds with no place in their hallowed civilization
Cast off by the land they rear with endless grinds, no patch to moor and rise and bourgeon, entombed in a stunted gestation

Now long-lost…

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