Banyan Roots

As I swing like leaves of Banyan tree,

I wondered if I am born as leaves.

Uncertain in the wind,

Cling to the tree tight.

 

Many years the green leaves swung,

Cleaning the air with oxygen.

The earth grabbed the fallen.

The fallen leaves turned into grey ashes,

When the fire grabbed them all.

 

Centuries gone past; roots drilled

Thick and deep in the soil.

Drilled roots clutched in the,

Bottom of Banyan like the hands of-

A woman in horror or lust.