IN THE MEADOW

In the Meadow

In the meadow, old and withered,

The grandfather of all trees.

Gone are the glory days,

Of rustling in the breeze

Gone are the days of standing,

So proud, wise, and tall.

Gone are the days of being,

The best one of them all.

Yet, come the silent night,

We find not all is lost.

His spirit still stands there,

Yet, at a heavy cost.

Every day he sees,

The suffering of his kind.

Desperate thoughts flitting,

In and out his mind.

In the meadow, old and withered,

The grandfather of all trees.

Every night he stands there waiting,

Waiting for his release.

-Shivangi Narain

11/20/08