...whatever happened to tranquility...a peaceful night perhaps, when one could sit alone with himself, listening only to nature making her sweet melody; soothing, comforting...thinking things through...
The sound of a lovely night calls,
As the deadness of the night falls
And with my ear I keenly listen
My eyes shut, my ears too
Taken away from the days realities
And of course the undesired anxieties.
The creatures of the night alive
As the best moment of their lives arrive,
No disturbances
Independent of destructive humans,
But in a twinkle they all go silent
At the sound of a noisy lorry
Perhaps a bus or a booming 'matatu'
Then they pick up from where they left
One, followed by another, then the rest
Only until they are interrupted next
Perhaps they wish they could go to the 'bundus'
Amidst trees, shrubs and bushes
By the riverside,
Where a pleasant sweeping flow is heard,
Where they can sing beautifully,
Chirp their nights away peacefully
And enjoy the bountiful silence
That pervades their appealing dwelling place.
But oh! Humans came and cut the trees
And in their place built noise,
Leaving no room for any to rejoice
Now even the birds have no choice,
The cricket cannot decide its own surroundings
For the 'homo' has invaded every inch
Of peaceful nature just as a leach.
And so he will never learn peace
Nor the value of silence,
For silence is not quietness
It is the essence of tranquility
The joy of pleasant, soothing, comforting sounds
The sounds of nature, where peace abounds.
Poetry by kip
Read 716 times
Written on 2005-10-06 at 15:48
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...Where Peace Abounds...
Birds singing, crickets chirpingThe sound of a lovely night calls,
As the deadness of the night falls
And with my ear I keenly listen
My eyes shut, my ears too
Taken away from the days realities
And of course the undesired anxieties.
The creatures of the night alive
As the best moment of their lives arrive,
No disturbances
Independent of destructive humans,
But in a twinkle they all go silent
At the sound of a noisy lorry
Perhaps a bus or a booming 'matatu'
Then they pick up from where they left
One, followed by another, then the rest
Only until they are interrupted next
Perhaps they wish they could go to the 'bundus'
Amidst trees, shrubs and bushes
By the riverside,
Where a pleasant sweeping flow is heard,
Where they can sing beautifully,
Chirp their nights away peacefully
And enjoy the bountiful silence
That pervades their appealing dwelling place.
But oh! Humans came and cut the trees
And in their place built noise,
Leaving no room for any to rejoice
Now even the birds have no choice,
The cricket cannot decide its own surroundings
For the 'homo' has invaded every inch
Of peaceful nature just as a leach.
And so he will never learn peace
Nor the value of silence,
For silence is not quietness
It is the essence of tranquility
The joy of pleasant, soothing, comforting sounds
The sounds of nature, where peace abounds.
Poetry by kip
Read 716 times
Written on 2005-10-06 at 15:48
Tags Expectation
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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