The Wandering Cloud I See

Myriad of colors Filtering rays of sun to spectrum wide droplet by droplet You color me and I color you Sensing the vibrations a few to sensory hue Lone rangers are we Burrows to burrows Mighty warriors, we, defenders of territories With war paint of blushing valentine's eve Don't know what is monogamous or eternal love But together for life are we Hungry and exhausted she curates her babies to be Smashing the foes I am left right center and above You are me and I am you Love is in water Colors and vibrations abound Colorful smashers, one strike to limp For we are Mantis Shrimp                                                                                                            - Anant Deshwal ...

Look Ma! A blind dog! Poor thing! It keeps bumping into various things as it moves. What a pity! said the little boy to his mother as they crossed to street to buy some grocery. Hurry up Tim, you need to pay attention to the road as you cross it. Said his mother sternly. Tim obviously shocked by his mother insensitivity and looked at her with with tears welling up in his eyes. Mother! How can you have heart of stone! There is a blind dog and we need to help it! Tim was starting to sound very authoritative. His mother knew she needed to pay attention to the situation. Instead of heading towards the supermarket she decided to take Tim to a park. Tim:        Ma, we left the supermarket behind. Mother:   Tim, we are not going to the supermarket we are heading towards the park. Tim:        I am in mo mood for playing in park just now let's just finish grocery shopping and go back home. Mother:   Tim, we are not going to play in park, ...

The haunting song of the parched Earth Eerie melody of no birth  Long gone was the last drop of water Only flameless air rising much hotter Howled the forlorn wind Serving the sentence but not sinned For eons she cared for her love Sometimes caressing his lustrous green grass and leaves above Or tossing up sand, gently crafting sand dunes Earth and wind in love singing life tunes He loved her angry roaring storms Her silken breeze and numerous other forms Now she is desolate and in pain For her love is dying or being slain One of her child Stabbed and tore open her love Gold silver diamond and greed Laying venomous foundations not  a live seed Parched is he                    Hungry is he To see her world die She is serving her sentence but not sinned                                           ...

As kids I would often fight with my brother over the topic: Who was the favorite of our mother? It sounds kiddish, Now I would often pass those thoughts off laughing.  However the other day while I was walking down the memory lane and there were a few thoughts about conservation bouncing about in my head, the question struck me all over again...   The same question over which I fought with my brother. The same question that made me laugh and pass it off as kids passing obsession. The same question this time struck me with a force greater than that of a lighting bolt!    We humans are doing the same... We have taken the same question to a whole new level and dimension. Is it some weird obsession or some fanatic behavior.  Since ancient times we have considered Earth as our Mother. However we soon became fixated at the thought: Mother loves us (humans) more than her other children and hence her gifts are only for us and not for anyone else....