Monday, 7 July 2014

Our Frond’s Story!

Our Frond’s Story!

Sshhh …
Come here ..
Lie down beside this erstwhile, barn-less, broken wood window,
On this goose-down pillow that mimics far cotton-candy cloud,
Tch tch .. no .. don’t gaze at the peripheral painted red brick-wall,
Face the open door, unpainted; smelling of dust, rust and wheat hay …
Tell me, when you’re ready … I’ve got a relic story to narrate …
A story of one feeble fragile foliaged fern leaf … Frond, its name ..
Frond, born in the home — also called, Epiphytic Bird's nest fern ..
Pinnated like a fledgling’s feather, soft light yellow feather —
Frond had one stipe and fifteen blades, small and long, all jade ..
But, he so failed to learn the petty teachings taught on sprouting,
All Young fern leaves but him, could coil into a livid green spiral,
Like a shepherd's crook or a bishop's crozier or one fiddle head ..
Every other leaf on the fern, had twenty, only long, long blades,
All could flawlessly sway, dodge, move, slither, wither, but fly,
Pinioned off the flight feather like any yet so eager waterfowl,
Hence, so contentedly staying at home to be one flowering fern ..
But, our plucky Frond, he so wanted to fly … off to other lands,
And, forgo the bearing of spores, being one of those fertile leaflets ..
Ah, they’d thus tap his forehead, to get him back to his senses full,
Or, would ask, when their sluggish sap turned so bitter, so acrid,
‘What the heck do you desire from your life, dreary fool Frond?’
And, our shy Frond would smile and say, ‘I would never know’ …
He knew, always knew, only was he afraid of the label — ‘Mad’,
Betwixt kept mum, longing for the day for someone to comprehend ..
On one heavy day, when ruby clouds were fully awake in sky dark,
She came singing, gliding smoothly, past the trees and insipid logs ..
Sush! Listen! Nor did she ask our Frond, what the heck he so want,
Instead, took all his hands in her hand, setting off to distant land ..
Never speaking, much in love — fresh melody breeze and our Frond,
Such was she precious — read his want, before it could be truly said!

*** 'Frond', also a botanical term/name for a Fern leaf. The detailing done here comprises of the basis functionality of the 'Frond' as a fertility/flowering leaf to the Fern plant/tree.


  1. smiles....what a gift to know his needs before he ever said them as if she were meant to be...and maybe an answer to him when no one else could tale sadia....