Day 20, April 2020
Love/Hate
A cool breeze that lets you
Doze off in comfort
When it turns into a storm
Your dry eyes burn into a heart
Of discordance
The most misjudged, prejudiced, hoarded
wealth
That’s kept in stingy hearts; love
is the bird
That dies a brutal death at
immature hands
Ego/
The dead bird sings to itself
To rise, and so loud in despair
The chaos turns the heart deaf
Wisdom slowly dries out in sheer discord
The carcass drowns in its own broken
melodies.
Greed/withdrawal
Drowned, desperate, the soul hangs
on to a lot
And amass things, honor, fame,
money, spiritual cloaks
Louder and louder and it turns more
deaf
Victim-hood/Guardian-hood
The dead bird knows it’s desperate
and can no more
Remember its own name and songs of
peace and congruence
It cries its pain, blames all and
keeps a morose face
Or may sometimes hide behind a guardian-angel
mask
Afterthoughts
Humanity tosses between all extremes
From handling the bird to caring
for it
(Intentionally or unintentionally)
The bird dead or alive, we manage
To put the show perfectly well on
stage
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