Nepal, June 20 -- O little big tree, trapped in the reality betwixt the eight corners of humanity!

Now undead, Will you share your tales of dread with me?

O little big tree! Will you keep mum As the spring sprints on to you?

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Will you not mumble a word, O little big tree, Perhaps, you wish to grow Tall and broad, A piece of monstrosity.

The reply

I speak, But with you not, You belong to an awful lot.

Too cold winters Too hot summers, The springs are lesser youthful,

O little human, be truthful Is this not all your doing?

And yet, And yet you ask me questions.

Published by HT Digital Content Services with permission from Republica....