No mere patch of greenery made rich,
A school meant to us humans to teach:
In patience learn from Mother Nature,
And beware of man’s greedy stature.
Industry and hard work of an ant,
Her thrift that one day may plenty grant,
Hope eternal against things adverse,
Hope, that morrows may everything nurse.
And trust of a newly born infant
In mother’s care, devotion unbent—
That what has sprout would get ripe one day,
And glitter gold like, and stay that way.
That a paradise can again be
This Earth, if only we that way see,
If we act in thrift, clipping our greed,
Reap not unsown nor yonder our need.
And yet man’s careful not nor patient,
Growing wanton weeds unrepentant;
Let gardens, let the left-o’er greens warn
Us humans, ‘heed or else die like corn’.
Mystique nor myth of heaven’s good grace,
All but charm packed in a small green space;
Not just a patch of greenery rich,
A school ‘tis meant us humans to teach.
-Musings | 03.02.07 |