The Plumeria tree in the backyard
Overlooked by the powers that be
Behind in the uncared corner land
Where no one steps across to see
With a twisted trunk of no value
Even for the crude carpenter’s toil!
Spreading branches so fragile
that
Unarmed fingers can easily break
Its core is no ornament in
palaces
Nor windows in the school take!
A useless creation fit for felling
Occupying precious part of soil!
Wait, O Master, O potent-in- law,
We are a family swearing by love
Think of the children unfortunate
Abandoned, with no roof above.
Condemn it not to hungry flames
Ignore not angels’ quiet turmoil!
The branches which drop blossoms
When they are fresh like newborn
For the children to weave laurels
Each other and for God to adorn
Curved trunk lifting them to
climb
To sing songs soul's sorrow to foil
Xavier Bage
Monday, January 22, 2018
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