Among the trees it listened to
Within the woods it knew
Without a peril close to it
Content, a sapling grew

The sun always came out to play
Without fail, with no deviance
And there, the leaves, in golden baths lay
While shrubs stretched up in grand compliance

Each day, this ritual
Like clockwork would repeat
Each day, the ground birthed
An ardent brand new seed

But, there came a morning
When the ticking of the clock
Was just a faint echo
A memory — etched in rock

The sun
Was nowhere to be found
Not in the trees, not underground
Was it dead?

No, its rays were up above
The canopies still
Albeit, hardly visible through black smoke
That rose higher than the tallest hill

Strange creatures,
Was that a pumpkin on their tops?
They moved upright -
Bipedal, tightly-clustered mobs

These smoke-masters
Wielding blades that cut the greens
Like herbal Death Angel’s scythes
“The end justifies the means”

And what an end it was
For a visitor came
A non-terrestrial guest with fixed course
Yet, no sliver of remorse

All the parks, all the buildings
All the stores and the benches
The statues of half-forgotten innovators -
All intruders upon a land that sap still drenches

Thus, there came a morning
When the ticking of the clock
Was just a faint echo
A memory — etched in rock

The structures were set ablaze
By the visitor from space
The impact was so fierce
That the pumpkin-ones shed tears

Over time, the maples grew
And the hawthorn and the elm
The beeches and the oaks
Once again, nature took the helm

The trees knew naught of the land they grew on
Of its history — the chaos
So, the sapling, now a magnificent survivor
Taught them everything it knew — the world’s most unsecretive conniver

No black smoke
Its masters — wielders of the sun-obscuring arts no more
In favour of harmony with the Green
Like never before

The sun always came out to play
Without fail, with no deviance
And there, the leaves, in golden baths lay
While shrubs stretched up in grand compliance