It grew in the wilds, a sentinel growing tall,

A mighty yogi in presence, embracing it all!

Branches reaching out, to the skies in a plea,

Seeking for the strength - to live it's destiny!

 

Its ancient bark, a wrinkled, weathered hide,

Tells a tale of the time's, swiftly flowing tide.

Inexorably which has grabbed, life in a churn,

On and onwards to - the lands of no return!

 

Void of its leaves, no birds now nesting there.

Yet it shows an innate strength - nary a scare!

A silent spectator, to events beneath the skies.

A monument to a spirit - that simply never dies!

 

The sun, the rain - and the vagaries of chance,

It has weathered everything, in stoic defiance!

Resolute of purpose, an attitude that’s so rare!

It persists with it's goal, to keep on being there.