Roots

My birth, your death
marked this bond,
imaginary yet real-
between you and me.

Planted in memory, yours-
raised with reverence
worshipped in kindness
embraced with love
you live on through me.

My home, your family
your home, my family
one became the other
I know not when-
maybe it is the you in me.

Generations have flown
I am tall and over grown
here I remain for all times
watching over, protecting
what’s yours, now mine.

*****

This is in response to the prompt on RWP, I am considering this a draft, too many thoughts to continue this further and do a re-write. But thought would submit anyway. In my ancestral home there are huge mango trees/jackfruit trees that were planted eons ago in memory of every person who passed away, this poem revolves around such trees. Note that the picture comes from Wiki, it is not my own.