“As a rule not knowing is a step towards new knowledge.” – Laila (Sophie’s World)

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Nature's Painting



As grains of sand are cascading,
inside the hourglass of this world;
stubborn mankind there are,
painting the gloominess of life.

 Overwhelming, is the destruction
of nature’s tired respiration.
Wretched smog, difficulty it gives
to her clear precious bluish crown!

Acidic tears roll by her cheeks,
for she can’t endure much further;
one by one, bitterly they fall
piercing the greenness of the earth.
 
Unnoticed, infiltrated crops
with poison, produce some harvest.
Consumed by man, poisoned harvest
consumes man, deadly, bitterly.
 
Devastating too, is the demise
of nature’s green haired upright trees,
and they’re relentlessly grazed like
Rapunzel’s hair, by woodcutters.
 
Conclusion is harm of the soil
mixed with water caused by her tears.
Then, cascading down the mountains,
O, none can stand against her wrath!
 
Restless is her everyday life;
inside her, everything is lost!
For all is hopeless, all she does
is to shed tears all day and night.
 
Great winds from the east and the west
waged war with their brutal powers
harmed at the nexus of their crossfire,
are nature’s precious inhabitants.
 
Descending from her bluish crown -
no longer gentle tears of joy,
but are atrocious bullets of hail,
and coldhearted storms of sorrow.
 
Life’s seed will no longer grow,
if she continues to be hurt by man.
“O you inhabitants!” she says,
“why do harden your hearts on her?”

“Finite are the sands of time,
yet as many as grains of sand
night and day, malevolently,
is she injured by your cruelty!”

“Why won’t you give your sympathy
to her who’s created by Him,
Who blesses you with needs and wants
through her whom you have hurt so?”

“Why not you start healing her now,
who’s injured, scarred inside and out,
who’s callously consumed by man,
who’s like a withering flower?”

“I hope that you, O mankind,
bearing the words she has told you,
and your responsibility,
will paint the jubilance of life.”

"Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance." - Carl Sandburg

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