Monday, October 19, 2009

The Gardener's Acres

The umber virgin terrain,
that spread across acres,
cut open by a plough,

oozed to birth numerous saplings
that sprouted from seeds,

planted unseen.

The young ones spiral higher
into the uncharted skies,

propelled by the forces of nature
that acts all in vice,

making them mature with every
shine, gush and pour.


The roots dig deeper
parting the soft wet soil,

withering away the innocence
to come into existence.

Having shed the inhibition
and growing stronger
with the changing seasons,
the once tender sapling blossoms,
emitting fragrance that arouses lust
even among the blind's bosom.


Gently swaying to the unheard rhythm
the hue that adorn the acres
paint a ode to a vibrant creation.

Lost among this cacophony of
orchestrated perfection
are a few called 'imperfections'.

Stripped naked
of a fertile creation,

these 'imperfections' stagger
along trying to dance
with a all too flattered perfection.


In a random cycle, does the Gardener
grace upon His manifestation.
The acres busy in an enigmatic trance,
fail to acknowledge the Gardener
who nurtured them into existence.


Shunned away from the dance,
are the 'imperfections' who seek
the Gardener who sees through
their imperfections.


A new lease of existence springs
upon these 'imperfections'
whose constant lease of drought
find the Gardener's touch
a resurrection.

The Gardener walks silently past
His infinite acres of creation
to tend another set of 'imperfections'.
Not all of the acres witness this
moment of revelation,

except for the 'imperfections'.

The cycle turns, the shadows enlarge,
the acres age to become trees,
cracked and hard upon whose
outstretched arms rest other creations.


And they erode

with every ring being added
to sow back into the barren land
the seeds of future acres.


(e-snap : Outside Viscomm Department, Loyola College, 1998)

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