If I could swim the meadows and walk the rivers
And, perform  miracles in my stride
Would I then be what the world direly needs,
If I could play with Nature and its wild side tame
No quakes, no storms, no disabled, no cities lame
Would I be reading Holy books, be the one who feeds,
For,  the dreamer that I am with the fancies of a child
With hope in the heart and the lamp well-oiled
As I walk into the despair and darkness  of night
In Solitude,
I pray to the One who knows all
I pray for the world to be spared its precipitous fall
‘Cause, neither you nor I, nor any other
Knows anymore, whats’s good for us, brother.

Was the world meant for you and me, Alone
With nothing else but Desert and Stone
The world all ours in our myopic view,
For,  that now seems to be the tragedy
Of the Human race and, its fragile destiny,
As it looks at the skies for Pastures anew,
Obsessed with conquest of the skies
Not enough for it are God’s eyes
For, Man does God want to play,
Staring us in the face
Aghast at Man’s tearing pace
Is Nature,
What more can I say!

Will the Lord a Saviour send
Or, will Nostradamus be right in the end
Is annihilation close, around the corner,
Will Nature, Man’s tantrums inure
Or, will it in its wrath our extinction ensure
O, for childhood rhymes and Jack Horner!  

(The author is a businessman and part-time poet. He can be contacted at ashok.sawhny06.poems@gmail.com)