Under the banyan tree...

You are the majestic banyan.
With opinions hard as the aged trunk.

Like root tips soft and reddish pink,
are sent to earth and buried within,

You keep my dreams and my words,
safe from hurt, risk and wind.

So words die in my throat,
like leaves that wither as they sprout.

You are the majestic banyan,
your arms are riding long and long,

But I am a shoot gasping for light,
a patch of blue, a voice my own.