Gulmohur in the Graveyard

Posted on May 4, 2008

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Lovely orange and red flower-tree atop
A mound in the middle of a large ground,
Made me take a deep breath and stop,
And a graveyard it was, I soon found!

The fire flowers looked nonchalant and proud,
Seriously took they their part as shroud,
To the many people in their final resting place,
Lending to the somber ground more than just grace!

They cradled Mary-Elizabeth, she lay mummified in stone,
She was old even in here; her tomb-stone looked worn,
No one really came to pay their respects or kind words say,
But the Gulmohur took pains to grandify her home anyway.

The Gulmohur knew it was made to be a merry tree,
Thus, it stood sturdy as if fulfilling the Lord’s decree!
It’s many-splendoured infinite arms spread out wide,
It lent the graveyard an ethereal aura and a jolly pride.

Who’d think dead souls are redeemed by a fiery tree,
Forgiving sins, soothing pains, giving hope to be free.
If only being dead could mean having a love so sound,
From a loving mother-tree atop a mound in a large ground!

Henri, May 4th 2008.

Ode to the Gulmohur in the Roman Cemetery on Hosur Road.

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