'Broken-Tree' Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

You are afraid of the word ‘Broken.'
Leaving that word on the dust of the path escaped
I carefully collect the word ‘Broken'
And sow under the rough surface of the earth,
Summer, rainy, winter spring boats
come near one by one and left,
Again and come in cyclic order
One fine morning surprisingly saw
The ‘Broken' sprouted to a tender sapling.
Rain-girl came and sprinkled water.
Season-pedestrians coming make inquiries.

Now the young ‘Broken-tree' blooming gloriously.
Where are you? Please do come.
I say
‘Broken' is the part of the whole.
Nothing is divided.
Nothing can be divided.
Apparently appears divided.
As everything is under the completely spherical universe.