A Prayer Poem by Seema joglekar

Rainbow flowers dwell in modest bells, with fainter perfumes,
Feel no urge to bloom streaked lips, in the hands of Spring,
Their tinsel stalks can no more hold nor tempt
To festivities, to drink their diluted nectars; the bee ailing.
Trees have yielded their secrets to last year’s leaves,
New leaves have no mystery to reveal their luster to the smog,
They spray their bounties on the cities pitiless asphalts,
Their pride crushed under the genial stray dog.
Word is that it’s destruction of the Eco system.
Sadly I let it be!

The grass is no more greener in the neighbor’s yard
The oxides have claimed their stakes with no moisture,
Birds run out of songs to sing, stunted forests beg to save their cover,
Ravaging the glen’s modesty are the killer bugs and killer weeds.
Birds calls are met with silence, and fields have gone barren
Rivers run dry, the sun rises blood-soaked, shy
Word is that it is tampering with Nature.
Petrified, I let it be!

Soda lakes float in an eye-watering haze, acrid smell
The choking wind sweeps, with many sleepless tales to tell.
Of sucked earth’s juices, whose ghosts come to haunt one and all,
Their energies departed, with every labored breath and its restless fall
Word is that it is the scourge of the cities.
Helpless, I let it be!

A red hue threatens anyone that dares look in the evening high,
The sun is so errant, the birds and the bees are confused to meet his eye,
Seasons wreck havoc either early or late, or never show their face,
They blame it on the ice-caps veiling some ice mountains grace.
Fishes have gone to pickle in brine water, whales have gone skin-dipping in the shallows,
Some say they have gone flying, as migratory birds drown in waters.
Word is that it is Global Warming.
Appalled, I let it be!

Fruits have packed their punch of toxins in tasteless flavors,
Fowls hesitantly drop off on thin eggshells, Ocean beds yield cemeteries
Cattle mark their vendetta by nourishing us with noxious viruses
Flora and fauna have gone extinct, as man sleeps.

Birds forget their migrations, and wander with no home to find
Grandmother says you see too much, you shall go blind.
But I chose to see!
How do I let it be!
How do I forgive all your trespasses, and all the strife?
But whatever you do- bring him in my life.

SOURCE: THE BOSS
Seema