On Having Seen The Fallen Leaves

Old, dead leaves fall and lie strewn, Until the road cleaners sweep them away, While the pedestrians pass on languidly Treading on them, taking no notice. New shoots will soon sprout And gradually unfold as green leaves. The tree will be adorned with a green look again, Bear fruits to nourish men, birds and animals. Birth and death are but an essential cycle, On which nature moves on. Welcome and goodbye greetings are routine rituals; One following the other, in cyclic order. Dhaka 19 February 2024 'Oh the fallen leaves, I belong to thee, In tears and in glee.' - Rabindranath Tagore