the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 215 – Mother

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“The essence of warriorship, or the essence of human bravery, is refusing to give up on anyone or anything. We can never say that we are simply falling to pieces or that anyone else is, and we can never say that about the world either. Within our lifetime, there will be great problems in this world, but let us make sure that, within our lifetime, no disasters happen. We can prevent them. It is up to us. We can save the world from destruction, to begin with… by serving this world, we can save it.”
-Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

She created a world,
A surreal place of being
Smoothed down with sandpaper
And leftover shreds brushed off with her fingertips
Fear and Hatred were yet to be born
And Love and Compassion played in the shade of the storm
Streams joined into rivers
Passing along liquid of sapphire and green amethyst
The gentle breeze called for the wind
Who, in turn, brought downpours of refreshing love
Cleansed into the purest form
She focused her beams of light
Onto the curvaceous cliffs
Painted upon by the ice and snow sculptures
That reflected the covetous land
Yet she shrieked at the sight of
The porous rocks, poisoned by
Jealous, earth-stealing filth
Sweet land, stolen by the
Forceful sand,
By acidic drops that fill each crevice
Heat (and more heat) from your gaseous equipment
Your happiness and fulfilment
It’s still meant
To painfully scratch away
At my mother’s home and lovely creation
Dear, look at what you’ve done,
With your selfish predation


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