Stoned and pensive I lay on a turf,
Not a single mortal around but an Atlantic Canary
Which too looked equally stoned as I do.
I soared and hovered upon the vast lands
She thus started her tale,
To see this blurb that you call Earth,
And trees were what I loved and adhered to most.
There was an Oak that had an intricate bond with me,
No malice we had but brimming
With love and solidarity for each other,
We had endless threads of chats and languid conversations.
The Oak never saw how he came out from a seed
To stand so young and so tall,
But he was full of joy and love
In every bit of his wood and the leaves,
As its branches bent to celebrate,
While the leaves swayed out of joy.
May have looked reticent to you but was exuberant to us
Those days went so merry and gay.
At length came the locusts and the termites
More lethal and equipped than the wild ones,
Carrying their auto-axes and a tractor,
Marching towards us with their bloody-red eyes.
Alas! The next moment the Oak lay dead;
Its leaves scattered on the ground, despondent,
Just a single gentle push from that auto-axe,
Without those severe blows, Oak was chopped off.
The poor fellow, left perplexed on both
His birth and death, but his wood still full of love lay,
At the feet of those locusts and the termites,
Who were busy singing, dancing, drinking and celebrating.
They now carried away the log on the tractor and left behind,
The twigs and the despondent leaves to rot.
I sat on the log, pensive and sad en route
Till I reached their place, a dingy, chocked and a gloomy habitat.
Civilizations, Mercy, Generosity, compassion say humanity,
While its dearth filled me with mirth,
Would they bring doom to themselves as well?
If they don’t retreat from this path, how long would they continue?
And when would they strand in a desert with no oasis?
Now the wood was reduced to mere pieces,
All piled up around the hearth,
Ready to burn, but wood was still full of love.
Bit by bit, Piece by piece, the wood
Was all thrown in the hearth.
It burnt and burnt until it turned red
Many clattering sounds followed while it reddened more.
This redness was that of the ‘desire’
The carnal flames, the state of Catharsis.
One could feel the heat twenty yards away,
They soon threw the red glowing pieces much small now,
Still glowing red and turning fierce.
T’wasn’t the rougir or the blush, but the desire
Was what enthralled all.
That clattering warneed me, no, don’t you curious idiot,
Don’t touch me lest I shall burn you.
Don’t you wait for my Carnal flame to extinguish,
As it may take a long span to end on its own,
And until that I shall only burn out of desire
I may burn under the Sun, moon, stars and even the clouds,
Until that precipitation which will redeem me
From this unchecked and origin less desire.
But sorry for that unfortunate Oak
As never came a black cloud that would
Pour over him to redeem him from his desire.
That poor Oak burnt and burnt unless it turned to ashes,
Ashes that blew away to distant lands to meet the void.
As that Canary completed her tale she gave me a stare
Unable to read her thoughts I meditated silently on her face,
I am not that termite I swear, nor a locust,
She again stared at me and smiled and smiled…..
Are you that Oak then?
Who has no space for love now but only desire?
Dumbstruck at this moment
I failed to even slip out a single word from my mouth,
I stammered mysteriously and couldn’t see at her eyes,
I concentrated on the ground beneath,
She said you can run from me but not yourself,
Create a balance between Introspection and retrospection,
She said and soared away with yet another smile….
– (Mayank) The Morningstar