Stood below a banyan tree in the vicinity
On a cloudy night where lightning flickered
I envisaged the lighting across the street
Adorned to welcome the festival of light
And the wail of the newborn shrilled the air.
The roots set to bond deep
Through tap roots and prop roots
Offering to nourish and nurture
Nature leads and instincts act
And a mother is born.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar