AND PEACE ECHOES

 Is it not high time that we should get out

 Of that claustrophobic box and move around

 Fling open those windows long shuttered

And clean that mind long cluttered

 With prejudices, hatred, biases and superstitions? I ask myself.

Why should the black cat on the road slither in guilt with inferiority filled

 At the atrocity of pointed fingers

 And the look of fear that lingers

 On the faces of people crossing the road

As they hastily change track?

The snaggle toothed traffic policeman pockets some hush money

 Under a blue sky sunny

Kicks the poor black cat which crosses his way

Ignoring the sky which suddenly becomes gray.

At the injustice of the   cop- like society snaggle toothed, I gnash my teeth.

The shabby little rag picker hefts up his sack

 And plods along

 Ignoring the cacophony of injustice and sings a happy song.

Picks up the rag, which doubles as a little black cat so cruelly kicked

 Ah, by the rag- cat he is so lovingly licked.

Injustice abounds in raucous sounds

 Kicking and acid attacks, burning and looting

 Plundering, hurling abuses and wanton shooting.

 But alas, why is a threat to justice anywhere

  Not a treat to justice everywhere, why are such little acts of kindness so rare?

 On my mind it grates.

Ah there comes the rain washing away my pain

I ask myself, is it not insane to rein in the irrepressible rain?

No curfewed might can restrain the feisty spirit of the rain

As it pitter patters on the Pine trees of my beautiful land

My heart burns, my spirit yearns

 And many a lesson learns.

 The silence reaches a crescendo

I turn my mind inwards

Ears attuned to the tranquility which echoes and reechoes from the brook

 Which babbles along from a nook

   In my mind

Where the black cat is not fearful  

And the rain boisterous and cheerful.