PSEUDO-SECONDARY GROWTH

 I said goodbye

 for this forest is empty.

There is no water, 

there is no food.

The birds congregate above 

while the humans below

grow,

grow greedy, grow hungry, 

grow thirsty, grow ugly. 

Sacred no more and

forgotten are the ways

that began our stories.

Man and his myths 

dying with the leaves 

changing colour no more. 

Homeless, 

speaking as silently as a tree 

for centuries 

unheard, it's wisdom 

do we breathe

but now rootless 

ruthless

hurtful are our deeds.

"How do you grow when you are hurt?," 

asked the dying boles of Nandi wood in my hand.

"If you would only listen, 

Spathodea campanulata is my name."

Embrace back to the centre. 

Name change game change

Loop theory 

cyclic, linear 

whatever your journey 

Inter-dimensional

Extra-terrestrial 

we seem to have the words 

but lost is their sanctity,

their sanctuary. 

Inside us 

let the forest grow.