A green carpet spread beneath my feet,
and a sepulchral dome of blue above…
I stood pondering over our equation with nature
and everything that fills her treasure trove.
The benevolent mother of greedy billions…
The silent surveyor of each and every sin.
Pain and agony fill her every single breath,
as she is mercilessly exploited by her kin.
Her omniscience is as impeccable as ever,
she knows the consequences we are destined to face.
She pities our nonchalance and ignorance,
as we foolishly tamper with her dignity and grace.
With a sobbing heart, she ceaselessly grieves,
as her veins are poisoned by what our factories spit.
But a shameless humanity mocks and molests her,
and behaves with her as it deems fit.
Our ruthless attacks have left their scars,
in the crown of ozone that adorns her head.
And though she seals her lips with vast tolerance,
we mindlessly spray her face with mercury and lead.
She knows she is foolish to harbour such fiends,
but she cannot bear to see them languish.
And so she suffers so that we may prosper,
and never ever voices her wails of anguish.
But when we meddle in matters not meant for us
and treat His greatest creation with little care…
It’s impossible to escape the noose of justice,
and future will strip these sins of past bare.
She knows it now, as she knew it then –
and being a mother has warned us as well.
Each tsunami, earthquake or a lava eruption,
is a mere snapshot of what lies in store in hell.
Yet we contemptuously dismiss these warnings,
to continue our imperious march to global havoc.
Extinction will soon be staring at our faces,
as death and destruction are bound to run amok.
This ailing planet is on critical life support,
and our insipid response has left it aghast.
It is begging us to take the green turn soon,
Lest the obdurate wheels of time run past.
Nature’s coffers are slowly but surely drying,
from our reckless use over all these years.
And a mother groans in stifled despair, searching
amongst her children for sympathetic ears.
NISHANK MEHTA | 29.09.2008