Version 2: "Roots and Roads" - थोड़ा और figurative*

*Shriveled, Yet Growing*

I was my own tree — shriveled, dry,  

Watching travelers hurry by.  

Ahead they went, behind they turned,  

While in my roots, a silence burned.  

My eyes dug deep into the earth,  

To where old pain had stunted birth.  

The axe had fallen long ago,  

Yet still the wound refused to go.  

The wind returned. The rain drew near.  

My heart lay flattened, numb with fear.  

No voice rose up from deep within,  

Just hollow echoes of what had been.  

Then lightning struck — I almost broke,  

Till a traveler’s shadow softly spoke.  

Not the same road, but a new way,  

He showed my branches how to sway.  

Strange thoughts crept in like morning vines,  

Unfurling hope in crooked lines.  

I had faith — though none I knew —  

That friendship calls when skies are blue.  

The known stayed silent, turned away,  

While strangers taught my leaves to pray.  

Anxiety still whispers, “Beware,”  

But crawling means I still am there.  

I lie down now — not in defeat,  

But to feel the earth beneath my feet.