By MAYA GREEN
The symphony of the wolves
And the cacophony of the cicadas
Melting into the psithurism
Of the redwood leaves
These are more pleasant, and sincere
In the celebration of nature:
And the glorification of Providence;
Then the empty noises, and the dirge
Of the tired — and selfish souls
Even the subtle discourse
Of the rocky cliffs
And the brook running below:
That is music pleasant, and divine
As the valleys, hills and mountains
Do their fluid dance;
In celebration of abundance
— and of life’s living force
And the beauty, that’s all around
Why are we blind
And lost in this cloud of revelry
Madly shouting, and scrambling
— for scraps
And wielding our swords
— at all who passes us by
Oh, we are already dead!
Dead to this world
And to what is hidden behind it
It’s too late, to open our eyes
Dateline:
First composed on May 20, 2019 in Japan and revisited on May 20, 2024.
Shah Alam, Selangor DE
