Workshop

On The Brink

  Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
There mayn't be any, by the end of the year.
Sing with the nightingale, laugh with the jay,
Run down the valleys, follow the deer.

Far from the maddening crowds, climb up the hills
Savor the meadows, sit on the mounds.
Look at the farmer, watch how he tills
Rise before dawn, hark to the sounds.

The chirp chirp of sparrows 
The serenading Koel,
The rising sun's arrows
That pierce through the foil.

The cascading needles, weaving a carpet-
A gossamer sheath of raindrops and light.
Tension and pain so quickly do melt,
The blood surges forth in a rush of delight.

Gather your children around you at night
Give them a draught of nature to drink,
Show them the starfish up in that height
That oft seem to shrink and then start to blink.

Put on your snorkel, pull on the flippers
Go on that cruise, dive in the sea,
Just wade in the waves, cast away slippers-
For lungful of Nature, there is no fee.

Dive in small rivulets, clearer than glass,
That flow down a mountain, fragrant with pine.
Soon may these perish and listen m'lass,
Naught will remain, valley or vine.

Hold fast with love, break not the tether,
Forswear this blindness, or surely we'll sink.
Gather Oh Mankind thy forces together,
The Mushroom's biding, we're right on the brink.   

11-Feb-2001

More by :  Sivasundari Bose


Top | Workshop

Views: 3561      Comments: 0





Name *

Email ID

Comment *
 
 Characters
Verification Code*

Can't read? Reload

Please fill the above code for verification.