What does the little tree think of when the big tree falls
And its flowers rust and worms soil its bones
Does the little tree, then, hide from its poignant call
With its roots searching for base and bees at its door
Does the little tree, then, let the snails come
Let the creepers tow its trunk
Because around the gale of a summer wind it shall fall
The big tree demonstrates its senescence
Found in its big trunk and its subterranean network
All those who lived below it, witnessed it.
The colossal body, when it fell,
It took them without admonishing
Pulled it out and piled it to the ground
The wind, it was never keen, with the surplus bringing brought this figure to end
When it was strong, it appeared to be something more
It was maverick and of reverence
It was a stacked marvel and it walled a plethora of tiny beings and their planets
All great trees praised it and gave it their plaudits
But the greater bigger tree, it's now logged, now its apparatus' wilted.
When it took the first beam without summarising this fragile life
The seasons gave it its potency and it aspirated
From inception to the supply of maternal love and health and spirit to everyone
It blessed whoever came close to it!
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Little tree remembers a wind not so keen
It transferred and diminished the sun
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It understands its uselessness
Still its mental rises to its fulfillment.
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a sweet rain comes
an animal advances
