Old Tamarind Tree

standing for years
outside my home
meriting nothing but
the occasional passing glance
the old tamarind tree
has now had enough
and like a long ignored friend
it seeks to converse

waving branches festive
with new green leaves
it speaks of how
summer's generosity
follows
winter's harsh penury
remnants of last season's fruit
hang close
to tiny golden blooms

It tells me
it never asks
for anything
anything at all
but the sky and the earth
come together
in eternal love
for its sustenance

I listen to its stories
my eyes well
I whisper to it
my hundred fears
one hundred barriers to my love
old friend that it is
I hope against hope
in its ancient wisdom
I'll find my truth

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