EXISTENCE IS AT STAKE.
The hostile air has devoured
The poetry of cool zephyr.
These days, the body and the mind
Are equally soaked in the tiresome odour of perspiration.
You cannot discern,which is a tear and which are the trickling sweaty beads on the face.
The sun happily seems to have come a step further on seeing the green
Landscape,being replaced by ugly, auburn close knit dwellings.
Today, a few more trees had been sliced
To make way for a flyover.
Though the whimperings of beseech From the trees could be heard.
No one even whispered a sorry ,
Before the brutal axe fell on them.
Another piece of green finery
Will be eliminated tomorrow.
Oh ! halt a minute .
This is an enthralling soothing wonder
It’s a water body ,home to swans who glide on it.
And mounds around dressed with tall trees.
But then, something else will have to grow here,so
A irresistible mall , adorned with sparkles and exquisite lights
Will win in the bargain.
Meanwhile the chaotic heat has risen.
The air conditioner has become tired and feeble in its attempts to churn.
The rain Gods have become very offended and really hesitant in sending it’s mellifluous showers down gleefully.
The rhythm of spring has become inanimate.
The simmering anger of the Earth can be seen in her melting glaciers.
Too many rivers has been reduced and blurred with human waste.
The bustling streets appears parched, bereft of life.
It’s a running race.
A running race giving birth to hot hostile air , dampening languid grace
On every countenance.
In the crescendo
A few anguished hearts cries in fear .
Will the Earth survive
Existence is at stake.
Anxious,Pale Moon.
The moon tonight is anxiously astir, though she wanes.
She was in a rendezvous with the Earth, who spoke of her woes, and said,
Her pulses have quickened and her strength drained.
The Earth is bemired and robbed of her green.
Blooms stared lifelessly as the zephyr abruptly stopped.
They do not find joy in this barren land anymore.
She slowly found her bosom in a hot oven ,the Earth spoke.
The moon tonight is anxiously astir though she wanes.
The smiling green landscape turned dry and hazel.
Symphonic notes of rejuvenation from the embrace of nature are absent, since long.
Brooklets ceased dancing with cascading grace.
The Earth is bemired and robbed of her green .
The hills were sliced and trees beheaded.
The myriad hues of nature are left only in storybooks.
Rivers ran dry and downpour ceased to descend, on listening…
The moon tonight is anxiously astir, though she wanes.
Nature’s gaiety fled by mankind’s tread.
Auburn garment of concrete towers has replaced the soothing, green canopy of tall nodding heads.
The lullabies of dawn and dusk have met their demise.
The Earth is bemired and robbed of her green.
A gloomy, depressing tale soaked in pain ,it was.
Shadows of uncertainty lapping on her shores.
The moon anxiously is astir though she wanes.
The Earth is bemired and robbed of her green.
Sangeeta Dey (Roy)
Sangeeta Dey (Roy) is an author and poet with several publications. Her writings have been featured in magazines, newspapers, souvenirs, e-journals, and in national and international anthologies. She is a member of IPPL and the vice President of Ispell (Assam Forum). A teacher by profession, she hails from Haflong, Dima Hasao Assam.