If You Cut a Tree; You Cut Your Own Mother – Poems on Environment , Wildlife , Mother Nature , Global Warming by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

10. NEWNESS 

Be it in the very first rays of ethereally magnificent

dawn; enlightening every cranny of despairingly

flagrant blackness with unfathomably unceasing

majesty,

Be it in the nimble squeaking of the freshly born

infant; profoundly enrapturing monotonously usurped

existence; with an unprecedented power to forever

survive,

Be it in the transiently hood-winking beams of the

vivaciously uninhibited rainbow; casting their magic

on every fretfully beleaguered bone; till times beyond

infinite infinity,

Be it in the pristinely nascent shoots sprouting from

the corrugated branches of the tree; delightfully

swaying in insatiable ecstasy with the virile currents

of summer wind,

Be it in any form; shape; color or height; Newness was

what I was inexhaustibly searching for every unfurling

minute of the day and night; Newness was what tingled

every aspect of my existence till even beyond the

realms of eternal paradise; O! Yes Newness was what my

soul wanted to seek till even countless births after I

died.

1.

Be it in the unrestrictedly artistic lines scrawled on

barren canvas; embellishing the chapter of mundanely

manipulative survival today; with unceasingly copious

rivers of color and vibrant charm, 

Be it in the infantile trickle of water dribbling

painstakingly from the scorched rocks; bounteously

perpetuating the sweltering atmosphere around with

unbelievably rhapsodic exhilaration,

Be it in the faintly rupturing of the outlines of the

immaculate egg; blissfully announcing the arrival of

unparalleled exuberance; in a world of otherwise

preposterously shriveled decay,

Be it in the premature formation of pearly white mists

in the sky; triggering a ray of tantalizingly

unsurpassable hope in one and all alike on bereaved

earth; that sensuous rain was soon about to fall,

Be it in any form; shape; color or height; Newness was

what I was inexhaustibly searching for every unfurling

minute of the day and night; Newness was what made me

feel the most pricelessly insuperable organism alive;

O! Yes Newness was what my soul wanted to seek till

even countless births after I died.

2.

Be it in the sporadic bouts of laughter of the

ebulliently innocuous child; making truculently

agonized heart’s all across this boundless Universe;

melt and frolic into the meadows of effulgent

childhood,

Be it in the incoherently optimistic quacking of the

fledgling swans; trying to timelessly disseminate the

message of egalitarian peace towards endless sky and

emollient earth; wonderfully alike,

Be it in the inconspicuously sensitive dewdrop on the

blade of ravenously enthralling grass; radiating into

a beam of perpetually golden righteousness; with the

first rays of the Sun,

Be it in the intrepidly adventurous wave disappearing

wholesomely into the horizons and deep sea; permeating

even bit of the gruesomely bedraggled ambience around

with celestially tangy happiness,

Be it in any form; shape; color or height; Newness was

what I was inexhaustibly searching for every unfurling

minute of the day and night; Newness was what

unconquerably fuelled every ingredient of my blood to

pump life; O! Yes Newness was what my soul wanted to

seek till even countless births after I died.

3.

Be it in the singular star that regally twinkled in

the grotestquely cloudy and foggily obfuscated night;

granting glorious reprieve from a countless

inadvertently committed sins,

Be it in the match-boxed minuscule hutment barren

without any quintessential amenity of life; yet with a

roof so compassionate; that it sequestered you from

the most devastating of storm and rain,

Be it in the inarticulately indefatigable buzzing of

the bumble bee; spawning into cisterns of invaluably

harmonious nectar; a sweetness which no power on this

turgid earth could ever transcend or destroy,

Be it in the whisper of the fugitively nubile maiden;

engendering every pore on the satanically lambasted

skin to excitedly stand; even as she extinguished into

a valley of nothingness; sooner than she had arrived,

Be it in the infinitesimally silken beat of the heart;

which arose towards the cosmos for just an instant;

but united the entire estranged Universe in chords of

immortal love; before it veritably died, 

Be it in any form; shape; color or height; Newness was

what I was inexhaustibly searching for every unfurling

minute of the day and night; Newness was what

propelled me to procreate countless more of my very

own humanitarian kind; O! Yes Newness was what my soul

wanted to seek till even countless births after I

died.