It takes much time to kill a tree,     Not a simple job of the knife     Will do it. It has grown     Slowly consuming the earth,     Rising out of it, feeding     Upon its crust, absorbing     Years of sunlight, air, water,     And out of its leprous hide     Sprouting leaves.     So hack and chop     But this alone won't do it.     Not so much pain will do it.     The bleeding bark will heal     And from close to the ground     Will rise curled green twigs,     Miniature boughs     Which if unchecked will expand again     To former size.     No,     The root is to be... Show more

It takes much time to kill a tree,    
Not a simple job of the knife    
Will do it. It has grown    
Slowly consuming the earth,    
Rising out of it, feeding    
Upon its crust, absorbing    
Years of sunlight, air, water,    
And out of its leprous hide    
Sprouting leaves.    
So hack and chop    
But this alone won't do it.    
Not so much pain will do it.    
The bleeding bark will heal    
And from close to the ground    
Will rise curled green twigs,    
Miniature boughs    
Which if unchecked will expand again    
To former size.    
No,    
The root is to be pulled out    
Out of the anchoring earth;    
It is to be roped, tied,    
And pulled out—snapped out    
Or pulled out entirely,    
Out from the earth-cave,    
And the strength of the tree exposed,    
The source, white and wet,    
The most sensitive, hidden    
For years inside the earth.    
Then the matter    
Of scorching and choking    
In sun and air,    
Browning, hardening,    
Twisting, withering,    
And then it is done.    
— Gieve Patel    

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