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