Anguish of mother earth

You stood erect one day

On hind- legs – how I was gay!

Movement of your forelegs

Such ease and freedom!

but this, this unbridled freedom

what did it portend?

Unfounded fear!

Is it not a mother’s obsession to worry

for nothing for the sake of her children?

Where is the Garden of Eden I have gifted to you?

Mesopotamia is now a desert;

Mirages giggle along the torrid sands of River Vaigai;

Fratricidal blood, my plains are aflame.

And, your hands move freely,

The very sight now I hate.

The emperor of the sky, your Father

Whose effulgence is electrified with

Millions of sperms of Gayatri.

Even the womb of the Fire

Such a consuming heat can’t bear.

My signs of anguish had woven

an invisible screen of beads

wrought by forging each atom

of bubbling, floating and bursting,

that shields you from the fury of your father.

Your free hands whet greed,

You emit fumes of arrogance

that disturbs the equilibrium

of the unsteady combination of the Trinity

and tear holes in the shielding transparency.

Lads, I pray,

Please stop it

before the opening of the flood- gate

Of total annihilation!

(Image: A mask in silver clay depicting greed. Source: Wikimedia)