This piece is written in light of the Similipal Forest Fires, as well as a disheartened reflection of the rampant deforestation in India.
Greetings little one, I wish you luck,
Stay with me for longer this time.
Oh yes, spring-born, I know you well;
Your story is one that I tell.
For months I nurse your infant greenness,
While weathering the burning heat.
I teach you the Monsoon Dance
‘Sway left-right, like the snake charmer’s trance!’
Then suddenly your colours change, and you drift away
Gently, like the twilight sun.
I bemoan your solitary freedom,
And wait patiently for your return
Until Now.
When we fall, beckoned by Man’s cruel blow,
Not side-by-side, but in a stifling embrace.
I can no longer welcome you, for you won’t come back
Nor can you leave-we’ll never part.
Yet why do I lament this togetherness; our prisoned oneness
Is this not what I have yearned for?
Perhaps the cut was too deep,
My lifelong love is drained.