The Mangrove
let me tell you an unfinished story
of someone who finds glory
in little things that might seem awry
to many who are used to the slurry
a boy was to be sent to the faraway mountains
to collect a rare stone from the fountains
a job they said that is paramount in
making him a man and a family captain
observe, follow the pack & return
the best ahead and rest by their turn
commands such, were then burned
on the backs of all, who least yearned
the wise men with their white doves
told them to wear the protective gloves
and when they warned them of the swampy hole
nodded though, he was busy fixing his shoe sole
the boy was quite, as he was guilty
far from the best, he was too filthy
ahoy, rise & shine, it’s time
the journey is a scheduled rhyme
on they walked, into the woods
braving the noise besides their boots
twelve years were they prepared for this
not fear, for him it was a curious bliss
everything they were to do was decided
rules and lines that were to be abided
it was said, to look around, think & learn
the ones ahead mustered all, to the last fern
days and nights went by
they trod the path, their morale high
with not a pause or a single flinch
until they reached the wicked trench
off he pulled as others, the memos which said
climb the highest, swing by the riverbed
up they started, on the nearest mangrove
amidst the cacophony, of the monkeys they drove
while some bore the pain of backpack bands
others, the unfortunate, bruised their hands
he stood still, wondering about the mandate
ignoring the jeers, at his apathetic wait
it was a while before he moved
they are swinging, said the thought he hoofed
a tiger here, rather a croc in the river
he took his chances and resolved to beaver
never before did the land feel so dear
when the currents swept all, including the tear
he beat the water with all his might
firm, not to go down without a fight
gushing & gulping for what seemed eternity
he realized he no longer felt any animosity
with muffled voices describing an oddity
he stroked his last, to a victory
they relented & admitted him into their troop
after all he was cleaner, post the surprise coup
the memos felt heavier now
he knew his way and was beyond how
the stone he understood, was not the goal
but the pursuit in itself, as a whole
with that, they continue to march on
the story he describes, being read upon…
