O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond, <br />have you forgotten the little chile, like the birds that have <br />nested in your branches and left you? <br /> Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at <br />the tangle of your roots and plunged underground? <br /> The women would come to fill their jars in the pond, and your <br />huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep struggling <br />to wake up. <br /> Sunlight danced on the ripples like restless tiny shuttles <br />weaving golden tapestry. <br /> Two ducks swam by the weedy margin above their shadows, and <br />the child would sit still and think. <br /> He longed to be the wind and blow through your resting <br />branches, to be your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water, <br />to be a bird and perch on your topmost twig, and to float like <br />those ducks among the weeds and shadows.<br /><br />Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-banyan-tree/
