The Tree of Life

I think back in time
when I was just four,
my dear grand grandpa,
weren't beside me anymore.
All those years I slept,
slept with you alongside,
until I woke up weeping,
to the news of your demise.
I went down nauseating,
out of my breath;
Maa sat there sobbing,
speaking of your death.
My eyes caught you resting
like a statue on arm chair,
People mourning all around
you, it didn't look fair.
I walked out to you
and shook you by hand,
That spine-chilling stillness,
it was hard to understand.
Your body was cold like the mist,
mist of that December Dawn,
in which my sapient soul,
shivering in the harsh cold,
was soothed by the tea,
of your stories untold.
The flourishing flowers you grew
still blossom and bloom in the lawn,
in their springs of hope and seeds of love,
the tree of life wakes up to another dawn.
As a stem stems from your roots,
we all walk our feet in your boots.
Your boots which gave,
gave us wings to fly,
and firm feet on ground,
so that we can try,
to pluck all the guavas of happiness,
like we plucked them every dawn,
from the garden of life,
jogging in your memory lawn.
Then you were carried away
in a chariot like chair,
I stood there in silence
watching the whole affair.
Like a unstable massive star,
you burst all your soul in the space,
those tiny atoms fused by wisdom,
things hourglass can never erase.
Those atoms condensed in the stardust,
will soon form new galaxies and stars,
a new Neptune, uberous Uranus,
soothing Saturn, Jupiter and Mars.
Your sun shines upon us, it shows,
for when it rains, it beautifully bows.
Those ingredients of life,
those molecules and DNA ties,
Another you is born,
As a toddler opens his eyes.
And you keep on living
each day, all the while,
in this grand tree of life,
in the leaves of our smile.
We all are one,
and one is all.
Smiling with you,
every spring, every fall.