The Fallen One

Outside, in the cold winter night,
The moon is still half in a cloudy sky.
In the sky a vast stretch of black,
And the land free of any sliver of light,
Chill and mist cover it all.

A lesion’s tale thus unfurls…

Once upon a time, a tree stood tall;
On the bank of a road it boomed.
The light of the sun its zeal -
Higher and higher, it grew;
Greener and greener, it thrived.

For years it had battled the winds
but stood firm and tall midst the others;
Giving shade to the every jaded rover
and cooling the heated.

One day, its sun was lost and all was lull
under thick clouds, a storm had roared.
It bowed down now, and the roots were out.
He fell askew, on the road he had guarded,
Its seeds all spread and leaves all o’er the earth.

Every wanderer cursed, for the path was dismayed
but no one heard its cry of agony.
The leaves had left but it hadn’t died;
The seeds will grow, new life will arrive.

After midnight, dawn can’t be far behind.
The tree will stand tall in bright sunlight.
The night will be clear and pain will die;
The moon will be full in a limpid sky.

Written December 2011; Originally posted on Facebook in December 2011