Saturday 18 April 2015

The Story of Earth

The Earth was dying.
She thought back
To the days she was young,
A piece flung off the sun;
The years spent spinning, clueless;
Spinning, wondering
In some corner of the
Mystery that is Cosmos.

To the era of rains,
That beat down on her, unrelenting;
To the first spark of life;
To the little Amoeba;
To the little green plant
That grew into forests.
To the Jurassic Era,
The endless stamping
Of monstrous feet
To their extinction.

To the days of apes,
To the days of evolution.
The days of Neanderthals
To the days of Cro-Magnons,
Old and New Stone Ages.

To where Rome and Egypt flourished,
To the days of grandeur and glory
Of emperors, palaces and cathedrals,
To the day they were buried.
To music, painting, poetry,
To love, hope, laughter, and dreams.
To human spirit and bond.
To ego, greed and hate.

To brilliance and innovation,
To the era of machines,
To the era of computers.

To the days of nuclear weapons.
To the days of war.
The day her children killed each other,
Now buried inside her forever
In eternal peace.
To the era of endless desolation.

"If I could live again", thought she,
A human being I'd like to be,
They came and laughed and cried and went,
Not caring how much they hurt me".

Bearing in her mind that last thought,
The Earth turned into a mundane rock,
The stars twinkled in farewell, and
The universe went on like clockwork.
 (Image Source: https://pathwaytoascension.wordpress.com/category/new-earth/)

Saturday 11 April 2015

Just A Morning....

In His Eastern abode,
He molds pearly water
Into a glowing sphere;
He opens the door;
With the golden light
The whole world he does smear.

Here bounces a fountain
Of liquid diamond,
Sparkling with molten joy;
The fragrant buds
Of Jasmine plants
Blossom in their beauty, coy.

Little drops of elixir
Shine on leaves,
Glitter on flowers.
Little miracles,
This beautiful dawn
Upon us He showers.

The petals of flowers
Are calling out to
A swarm of buzzing bees;
That spread the fragrance
All over the place
Carried by the morning breeze.

The melodious notes
Of birdsongs
Arise from plants and trees;
The earth has become
A musical place
That makes the Heavens freeze.

The eyes see,
The tongue tastes,
The body feels the touch;
The mind is lost,
The senses caught
In the morning beauty's clutch.

(Translated from Dattatreya Ramachandra Bendre's "MooDala Maneya")


(Image Source: http://ohananery.com/en/index.php/2015/change-this-unique-habit-and-your-life-will-change/)