Furry Rodentia (Long Poem on Nature)

Furry Rodentia

I did not mind
Sharing our house
With you, your blind new born

We all need a place to dwell
A cozy shelter from the gnawing chilly winter
From the freezing rain
And the hot steamy summer sun
We endured your riotous
Goings, comings, scratchings,
Screeches, mild mumblings
For months, seasons, almost two years

I still remember
Your sudden startling entrance
It was a heavy snowstorm day
In mid December
I was lying down, taking
A brief nap, a much needed rest
For a full recuperation
I too was awfully cold inside
The hearth yet to be kindled
Rudely awakened by your 
Knock on the front porch

In a frenzied rush
I bolted out to seek the troublemaker
With a 1500 watt halogen flood lamp
Did I frighten you? I’m sorry
You had crawled into the little opening
In the eves on the front porch
Perhaps frantically searching
For a vacant apartment
For the hard winter

Maybe your leafy den got too wet
With heavy snow
Or inundated by the fall flash floods
Too late -
To build another nest atop the maple tree
Much of the foliage on ground trampled with snow

I tried, in vain, to scare you
You had your own emergencies
Life’s exigencies – we all have from time to time
An impending addition of 2,6, or 8
Little clasped-eyed naked babies

Then, on that summer afternoon
You were distraught
You tried your best 
To 
Save, retrieve, the fallen young
Perhaps a weakling 
The last one to
Learn walking, seeing.
Your frantic attempts
Desperate crawling vertically
Must have hurt your paws
Delicate toenails
All without success
What a Herculean effort?
You did the best
As a loving mother. 

It was then
We 
Decided 
You would be better off 
In our backyard, in the tall trees
In the midst of walnut, maple, willow
Groves next to the 
Murmuring cool cataract
With a house at the level 
Of our second floor
You too liked that sky view
A rare panoramic purview
Of peachy red sunsets
During the cool months

Sorry,
I did not give you enough notice
That is customary
For any decent landlord
It is due even for 
A free boarder, a freeloader, a delinquent tenant!
I felt bad when you
Hurt your mouth, incisors
In the cage, with only a black walnut to chew
If you were in my little village
You’d have gotten
Plenty of coconut trees
To play with
And all those tender coconut
Flowers, tiny acorn-sized
Green coconut fruits

In a Rajasthan city
You got even a majestic temple
With silver bells and brass platters
Full of tasty sweet dishes
Why not?
You are the majestic carrier
Of Lord Ganesa
Thus, you too are 
Very dear to the Great Mother
The daughter of Silver Mountain
Annapurna – what a majestic peak
What a celestial abode
Of the First Couple

Strange, you too got
Gradations of color
Like all humans
Most surprising
Some of your kin
Have coal-dark coats
And some, even red haired tails

Sri Rama blessed you with
Three stripes on your back
A gesture of gratitude
For helping with the bridge construction
To Lanka

I am just a simple friend -
Like two good neighbors
We look at each other
Across the 
Double pane glass window – 
You munching on a baby walnut
With a curled tail, 
Basking in the morning sunshine on a sumac twig
A rare visual greeting on a wintry day

On hot summer days
You play around my potted
Mango and hibiscuses, on our deck
Strange friends, we are
Yet, perhaps we are part of
The same Brahman!
In the garden of
Brahma’s creation!

Copyright 2026 by the author

Un-weeping Willow (Long Nature Poem)

Un-weeping Willow

Is it a willow

An ash or hemlock?

I do not know

How could I?

I’ve been always in the car

Going at almost fifty en route

Between Dewitt and Fayetteville

Maybe one day I will

Take its photo or go near 

Just to touch it and see up close

What tree it is

But even without knowing its name

I know it well, so I think

I know it instinctively somehow

Because 

I have seen fallen trees

Even in our backyard, we’ve tornado ripped

Maple and walnut, majestic veteran trees 

Yes, really I have witnessed

Many, in fact

I’d seen them in my native land

In Vijayawada, an almond tree in our compound

In Cocanada countless banyan and other trees

Some times, a whole field of flattened bananas 

I was in college then, in that seaport

A furious cyclonic storm

Hit us suddenly in the evening

Everything turned pitch dark

It was as though, the sea

From

The Bay of Bengal got 

Its soul stirred, it roared mightily

All lights were out

Our mess closed down

We walked to the Udipi restaurant

On the Main Road

No water in the tap, only well water

Nothing for us – the stranded hostel students

No water, no electricity, no food

We were

Only an insignificant minuscule compared to

The thousands of fishermen

They lost everything

Housing, boats, clothes

And their folks, sadly even little children too

Next day, or after couple of days

I went out for a walk

To see our Pithapuram Rajah College

The roads, town, and shops

The whole neighborhood lost its identity

Nothing was recognizable

Everywhere, the downed electric poles, naked wires

Old trees, must be older to me by several decades

Uprooted, branches sliced off

Limbs hanging barely

Tin rooftops, bamboo poles

Clay tiles, shabby sign boards

All sorts of debris thrown out

On to the well planned grid of roads

Barely we could 

Make our way to the college

There too

In the sprawling campus

A few stately green deciduous trees

Torn mercilessly, begging for attention

With fresh sap on the wounded limbs

Outstretched hanging branches

But who felt the most empathy

For all the trees and flora in Cocanada?

Who else would it be?

Our Professor Chacko, of the Botany department

I saw him standing next to his children

In the college botanical collection

With a frown on his face

Still, he was a bit happy

But for the Hope Island

The storm damage could’ve been much worse.

This fallen willow tree

Is exceptionally lucky

To be able to survive, to gently lean on to

The Mother Earth’s bosom

But for a little bruise

On its feet and maybe on its trunk

A little strained root system perhaps

But, such little aches and pains -

Which we all grownups get accustomed 

Sooner or later in life

It happens to us all 

Man, animal, or tree.

Yet this leaning, more like a reclining tree

(The image of Ranganayaka,

Of Nellore flashes through mind)

Showed no worries

No record, no visible memory of its terrible accident

Accident born of a strong gale

Or wind shear

Such winds visit us during late summer

Or fall

It withstood the onslaught like a sturdy big oak

As a fearless yogi

The PWD workers too loved it

They never disturbed it

Never entertained the thought of uprooting it

Why?

They just go around it

Going about their business of 

Lawn mowing, fall clearing

As I pass by this semi-uprooted Salix

Everyday while driving on route 5

I have only one thought

How many of us will be that lucky?

Like this gently reposed tree

How many of us can move on?

In life, late into old age

Without a care, without a scar

Of ill health, accident, bodily neglect, or social scorn

How many of us will be looked after

By those around us

Like this fallen tree?

Would our earthly brethren 

Show us the same dignity

As accorded to this fortunate willow

Who knows answer to these troubling 

Questions? 

In these hard scrappy times

For us mortals, nothing is certain

Neither loving care in old age

Nor material security, nor emotional warmth

Here or anywhere. How sad!  

Copyright 2021 by the author