SHOVNA

Do We Hear Her?

A loud rumble sounded and shook me to the bone,
Quite not knowing, I stood still on the ground,
Again it rumbled, this time alarmingly,
With a loud, heart-wrenching groan.

Startled ,I jumped and wondered what would that be and why,
Is it an earthquake building up from within the core?
Scared I sat down and then lay on the earth,
Pondering at such a grief-stricken cry.

Someone is surely helpless and is in relentless pain,
I pressed my ear on the ground to hear from where,
I heard the voice of the Mother of all say,
Sounding distressed, as though, all is in vain.

“I created Earth with valleys, rivers, lakes, mountains low and high,
I decorated it further with trees, climbers, creepers and shrubs,
Thinking colours would unquestionably be appreciated,
I added flowers and fruits, so that nothing was awry.

The sky above looked barren, so added something to shine along,
I scattered the stars and moon and the sun,
Looking below, I felt there were few things amiss,
That is when I added amphibians and birds of song.

What about something that could roam the ground?
With care I created herbivores and predators,
Pleased I was to see the balance,
When they walked, swam, flew and roamed around.

Calling in their own distinct languages – sounds and voices,
Recognising Mother Nature’s boon for all,
Taking only what was necessary,
Appreciating the abundance and the choices.

I felt I needed to add one more, an epitome,
Abled to think and know right from wrong,
The special human who would stand with me in taking care,
Of their unique and only home.

Today I am in excruciating pain to see my gifted one,
Is the reason for destruction of my each and every inventions,
Using those very qualities I had given only to them,
They have misused, abused and harmed, which cannot be undone.

Numerous wounds they have inflicted on me,
Blind and do not see Nature that is omnipresent,
But scared of what is not visible to the eye,
Thus, believing and then worshiping the unseen.

They neither appreciate my abundance and creations,
Nor share them with everyone,
Forgotten is the innate gift to differentiate right from wrong,
They only care about individual aspirations.

Desires has become insatiable,
Fighting amongst themselves,
Mine is greatest, this is for I and that is for me,
So much of greed which is now difficult to cull.

The rivers have become choked and the lakes are dry,
The beautiful landscapes are almost barren,
The fruits and flowers have becomes poisonous,
Covering them with their creation – plastics, chemicals and pesticide.

Killing my other children for silly reason,
That too without any hesitation,
I do not cry for myself for I can rise from the ashes,
Sad, with so much more, yet my humans cannot imagine.

Before they can annihilate everything, they all will but perish!
Oh what have I created…oh what have I done”

14th February 2022.

Read Comments

Leave a comment

15 − = 8