They call me the Holy Tree.
Shiva prayed and fasted
where my roots stand exposed
like the breasts of a harlot.
Banyan means merchant tree.
Traders gather in my shade,
spread their wares and
bargain with townspeople.
Children open my seeds
to sample my flesh;
a communion
with the spirits inside me.
They taste the blood of me
from honey pots
that stand on shelves
by the sugar merchant.
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