Chinar Tree in the Forest Besides the Lake

Amidst
fallen apples,
smell of dried saffron, mild wood fire smoke,
the fragrance of algae from the lake and a mixture of tobacco and mist
One can smell the foliage
Of fallen leaves carpeting autumn
They seem to be from this chinar

They spiral down in a slow amber rain
Calmly descending on scalps of stoic surfaces
Standing underneath one may imagine them rewinding back to their branches, as the season suddenly turns into spring
One steps back into the lake and notices the huge Maple lookalike
Prosperous like the past of its earth

In this gaze one meditates over its form
The enormous bloom of solitude marked by years of branching
You imagine the roots deeply married to the earth
While Pandits wade past you through the water like cranes
Flycatchers dance around seated Rishis
The air is distilled with truth and the aroma of nothingness

Awakened by the chattering echo of jackdaws
One sees the leaves turn amber to red
Storms strip away years of wisdom
An almost empty chinar stands besides a chilled lake

Amidst
fallen bodies
smell of dried blood, mild smoke from burnt ruins,
the fragrance of carcass in the lake and a mixture of fuel and snow
One can smell the foliage
Of fallen leaves entering winter
They seem to be from this chinar

They spiral down in a slow amber rain

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