WILLIAMSJI MAVELI WRITES.....

GREEN OLIVE

With skin of emerald, weathered and strong,
A sentinel, the olive stood all along.
Sun's harsh embrace, the storm's lashing blow,
It witnessed nature's ever-shifting flow.

Fruits it bore, a gift of golden hue,
Saw seasons change, a canvas ever new.
Yet, life pulsed strong within its ancient core,
A silent promise – it still had more.

Then progress roared, a steel serpent's coil,
Blind to the roots that held the sun-baked soil.
The "true cutter" came, a pitiless decree,
"Those branches threaten, a death knell for thee!"

But the olive held firm, a silent plea,
"My story's etched in bark and gnarled tree.
I stand for life, a haven from the heat,
Can progress yield, or must we meet defeat?"