Soaring High - By Ishaan Padhye (IX B)
The tree in a remote village
Soaring high up in the sky,
Once was just a little seedling
Sowed by a little boy.
Stepped on by people, met by rainfalls
The seed grows over the ground,
Grows tiny leaves on it,
Which that little boy once found.
Taken care, watered everyday
The soil nourished where it's roots lie,
The plant was ready to grow up more
And was dreaming to soar up high.
Months passed, years passed,
The plant was now a tree,
Spreading it's dark green leaves
In the blue sky far and free.
Soaring high up till the clouds,
The tree stood proud and straight,
Now was missing his far lost friend,
And had passed many years in his wait.
One day it gets looked by the boy
Who now had grown old,
They both looked at each other,
As if they witnessed gold.
The old man gets tears in his eyes,
Admiring the tree in the scorching sun
He cries feeling proud of it
As if the tree was his own son.
The day he records his worst,
When he saw tree cut down
But he could do nothing about it,
Except crying for it and frown.
Alas! The tree falls down to the ground
Which spread its leaves vast,
His old friend was covered in tears,
And he, too, breathed his last.