Itβs a strange friendship,
A special bond,
Between a tree, βMyβ tree, on one side,
Which stands proudly in a common backyard,
Robust and strong,
Towering, with sprawling branches,
Loaded with leaves,
Home to pigeons galore,

And the roaring winds, on the other side,
Which often blow,
In the township where I reside,
With rampaging fury,
Howling in anger,
At only they know what,
Many a times ravaging foliage,
By the dozen,
Powerful, and equal in strength,
And much more,
As if they are mere pieces of paper,
Even viciously challenging βMyβ tree,
But only to an extent,
Where it sways in βSufiβ ecstasy,
And calms down,
When its friend, the wind, pacifiesβ¦β¦.


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