The last drop of rain has finally fallen.
A faint whisper so clear amidst polluted skies.
Floating to a tune, bittersweet yet solemn.
Man closed his eyes and witnessed not her demise.
Softly, she lay in the arms of the noon breeze.
Cradled like a baby, sweet and innocent.
Her mother wailed along with the burning trees;
Cries were made to the heavens, strong and fervent.
Although they were heard by creatures great and small,
Man was deaf and continued his ways supine.
He mused at his brilliance, a god above all.
Faultless in his ways too perfect and sublime.
The day comes when he is thrown from his pedestal.
Along with this world he had claimed to be his.
The last drop of rain purer than a crystal
Is the mountains' farewell, nature's final kiss.
In silence, I waved goodbye and watch her fall.
The river bared her bosom and received her.
Engulfed in black filth--her innocence and all.
Gone to this world; gone with man. Together.
A faint whisper so clear amidst polluted skies.
Floating to a tune, bittersweet yet solemn.
Man closed his eyes and witnessed not her demise.
Softly, she lay in the arms of the noon breeze.
Cradled like a baby, sweet and innocent.
Her mother wailed along with the burning trees;
Cries were made to the heavens, strong and fervent.
Although they were heard by creatures great and small,
Man was deaf and continued his ways supine.
He mused at his brilliance, a god above all.
Faultless in his ways too perfect and sublime.
The day comes when he is thrown from his pedestal.
Along with this world he had claimed to be his.
The last drop of rain purer than a crystal
Is the mountains' farewell, nature's final kiss.
In silence, I waved goodbye and watch her fall.
The river bared her bosom and received her.
Engulfed in black filth--her innocence and all.
Gone to this world; gone with man. Together.
(This is my most popular poem to date. I posted this in one site and got a lot of good comments for it. When I penned this, my intention was to enter this in a writing competition which I did. However, I was not fortunate enough to have won anything for it. Nevertheless, I know that this is one of my best poems still. I have poured my sentiments here, concerning the continuous destruction of our natural environment. It is hard for me not to be passionate when I write. The same holds true when I paint or illustrate. And I do not really see why I should inhibit myself at all. For me, writing and painting are the only means whereby I can relish and indulge my absolute freedom sans other people's observations or opinions. It is enough that I accomodate and put up with others in this damned material world we all share)
I just have to tell you that I think you are beyond brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much...I just hope that I get to realize how these gifts would make a difference in my very quiet yet maddening life and in that of others.
ReplyDelete