Monday, November 26, 2012

Snapshot of our present Earth

Prime source of all life, the Sun
Yet is not the only one -
Our globe, too, has heat to give
Which  determines we may live.

Earth, by molten iron warmed,
Creaks to have its surface stormed,
Split and set adrift by force,
Prelude to a fateful course
Leading to the transient mix
Of our continental six,
Vibrant  with the pulse of life
Based upon attendant strife.

Tectonic shifts, like a tide,
Move the continents aside,
Those that are familiar now
Owe their nature to the flow
Underneath their solid crust,
Which transports them where they must,
While, upon their changing face,
They support the human race.

Africa, compact yet vast,
Once believed in darkness cast,
Now revealed as man's first home
Whence his footsteps far would roam.

Asia, peopled fit to burst,
Prone to hunger, plague and thirst,
In the future scheme of things
Likely to unfold her wings.
In her South - the Indic land,
Battling waves on either hand,
Proffers home to ancient creeds
Catering to soul-felt needs.
.
Europe, finger-fringed around,
Gashed by myriad bays profound -
Long a springboard to the world,
From whose heartlands raids were hurled.

Then America the New,
All but neatly cut in two,
Stretching almost Pole to Pole,
Longest continent  of all.

And Australia, cast away
Where the southern breakers play -
Guardian of a wondrous reef
Wild and rich beyond belief.

Last, Antarctica the Cold,
Frozen land of mountains bold,
Fringed by ice shelves that disgorge
Floating mounds where penguins hide
Safe from danger rife elsewhere
In the seas that they must dare.


Now we prosper as we are,
While not knowing just how far
Future generations can
Stabilize the life of man
Perched upon a whirling ball
Where extinction yet may call.





Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Little by little

The shaddows that reflect an evening life
Are other than when youth was at its height -
Stood high the Sun or bade farewell.
For then the untried back was firm and strong
And used sky's orb to cast its outline proud,
Whereas a weakened posture tells a tale,
When thrown upon the ground by ruthless ray
Which, without malice, shows a sorry shape.

This is the certain lot of all to tell,
Though narratives will differ one by one -
So life devotes itself to what it can
And leaves its passage hence to certain fate.

The arc of life

Though time amidst the stars was brief, it shone
With superstellar brightness of its own.
Each day was seized upon the very dawn,
Its length filled full of life till it had flown.

With every breath the wind pursues its way,
Which likens to the journey that we share,
In puffs or raging blasts it yields its sway,
While we attempt to grasp the why and where

Of mastery of fate, though there be none -
Yet none, that is, unless a legacy
Remain to mark each sojourn round the Sun
And speak forever to eternity.

Lend me your hand, in keeping, to the end -
Your loving grasp gives me the strength to fend.

Monday, November 12, 2012

African night

Come -  as with your fall the day before -
Night, through which the hunted may endure;
Cause a swift extinction of the light,
Spreading, as you thicken, fear and fright
Over Africa, on whose broad plain
Strength is master and the weak are slain.

Herbivores that feed upon the veldt
Shudder as each threatening roar is felt.
Predators from every side deploy
Senses that their prey do not enjoy -
Piercing vision in the velvet black,
Peerless hearing tuned to swift attack,
Readiness to wield a lethal nose,
Given wind that favors when it blows.

Straining to detect what lurks around,
Anxious ears pick up the slightest sound,
Nothing, though, that of itself makes clear
Whether danger is remote or near.
Lack of clarity concerning place
Lends supremacy to those who chase.

Lift again your cloak of darkness, Night -
Grant the hunted leave to take to flight!