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

51. THE CHAPTER OF EXISTENCE 

Just when I felt my eyes were closing; my lids incorrigibly wanting to

shut down,

I saw the tiny buds of rose blossoming outside; the unsurpassable

grandeur of its petals engulfing the atmosphere in entirety.

Just when I felt my legs were going limp in exhaustion; the

indefatigable stress of the day inevitably pinning me down,

I saw the pouch bellied kangaroo leap across with gigantic strides;

traverse the marshy fields overlooking my window with uninhibited and gay

abandon.

Just when I felt my tongue relinquishing taste; infinite buds on its

surface had died a gruesome death,

I saw the cow philandering in the leafy meadows; munching robust chunks

of grass with great  relish.

Just when I felt my mouth aching; the chords in my throat abysmally

parched and dry,

I saw the orchestra singing loquaciously; madmen screeching at the top

of their lungs; attempting to bring the roof on earth.

Just when I felt my hands go pale; every iota of strength sapped

wholesomely from the conglomerate of my bones,

I saw uncouth barbarians bludgeoning their way through the forest;

annihilating gargantuan tree stalks; exerting monstrous power with

their palms.

Just when I felt the skin encompassing my neck sagging profoundly;

disdainful wrinkles inhabiting virtually every part of my demeanor,

I saw a cluster of young maidens with sparkling skin; boisterously

bouncing on the silken couch.

Just when I felt the waves of sadness vacillate in my soul; bizarre

grief stabbing me like daggers of blistering coal,

I saw the clowns of in the circus mischievously smile; with their loud

guffaws thunderously piercing the atmosphere.

Just when I felt pulsating pain in my forehead; an avalanche of thorns

curtailing it from perceiving further,

I saw a medieval sage reciting hymns in blissful harmony; the

unperturbed expressions of his face; depicting that he was in a land of surreal

fantasy.

Just when I felt that I was about to sleep; the clockwork machinery in

my brain failing to tick forward,

I saw a battalion of roosters flying high in the air; permeating the

crispness in the ambience around with their cacophonic sounds.

And just when I felt I was about to die; relinquish the final draught

of breath; to rest in my heavenly abode,

I saw a child being born; crying innocuously in the tender palms of its

mother; trying to imbibe as much as it could with its large eyes

dancing around the earth; to better understand the place it was now going to

exist; diligently continuing the CHAPTER OF EXISTENCE.