A Bulldozed Child Of Nature

I love oh! I love nature,

 I find solace and a haven of peace in nature,

You say, while taking the ‘last’ picture,

Then squarely lie down beside your camera

You passionately look around, at the red rose in particular,

You want to feel its temperature.

There is even a nagging urge, a mystic call of pleasure,

 to carefully inscribe your signature,

 But ah, you hastily reconsider,

Because your love for it is mightier than the pleasure

So, you do nothing but take another picture.

Just how repeatedly you take and add an extra picture,

Is how ceaseless my wonder is at your love of nature.

And so are the screams of pain that I hear

 Loud from underneath your footwear.

Disturbed, I take a long circular look everywhere

 Heedless feet and wheels mercilessly clamp, oh mother!

The suppression perpetrated on nature by its woe and lover,

Is hitherto unnoticed, eternal, and equal pain not experienced ere.

The whistling wind delivers nature’s scream and slaps it hard on my ear

And beneath its dances, free grass sways pointing me, in unison, to their suffering peer

The excruciating wail of pain chokes my voice, but I shut not my ear.

A pain that wakes and rests very infrequently and which with the poor grass I share,

Every time I see a hurrying, stamping and deaf crowd, a unified killer.

For now, I spare you my equally painful whip- a poetic lecture,

 But the question still ticks, and there is no halt for my train of wonder,

Or is grass not part of nature?

                                                                                                                          By Abraham Konchellah