If you cut a tree; you cut your own mother - Poems on Environment , Wildlife

THE CHAPTER OF EXISTENCE

Just when I felt my eyes were closing; my lids incorrigibly wanting to
shut down,
I saw the tiny buds of rose blossoming outside; the unsurpassable
grandeur of its petals engulfing the atmosphere in entirety.

Just when I felt my legs were going limp in exhaustion; the
indefatigable stress of the day inevitably pinning me down,
I saw the pouch bellied kangaroo leap across with gigantic strides;
traverse the marshy fields overlooking my window with uninhibited and gay
abandon.

Just when I felt my tongue relinquishing taste; infinite buds on its
surface had died a gruesome death,
I saw the cow philandering in the leafy meadows; munching robust chunks
of grass with great relish.

Just when I felt my mouth aching; the chords in my throat abysmally
parched and dry,
I saw the orchestra singing loquaciously; madmen screeching at the top
of their lungs; attempting to bring the roof on earth.

Just when I felt my hands go pale; every iota of strength sapped
wholesomely from the conglomerate of my bones,
I saw uncouth barbarians bludgeoning their way through the forest;
annihilating gargantuan tree stalks; exerting monstrous power with
their palms.

Just when I felt the skin encompassing my neck sagging profoundly;
disdainful wrinkles inhabiting virtually every part of my demeanor,
I saw a cluster of young maidens with sparkling skin; boisterously
bouncing on the silken couch.

Just when I felt the waves of sadness vacillate in my soul; bizarre
grief stabbing me like daggers of blistering coal,
I saw the clowns of in the circus mischievously smile; with their loud
guffaws thunderously piercing the atmosphere.

Just when I felt pulsating pain in my forehead; an avalanche of thorns
curtailing it from perceiving further,
I saw a medieval sage reciting hymns in blissful harmony; the
unperturbed expressions of his face; depicting that he was in a land of surreal
fantasy.

Just when I felt that I was about to sleep; the clockwork machinery in
my brain failing to tick forward,
I saw a battalion of roosters flying high in the air; permeating the
crispness in the ambience around with their cacophonic sounds.

And just when I felt I was about to die; relinquish the final draught
of breath; to rest in my heavenly abode,
I saw a child being born; crying innocuously in the tender palms of its
mother; trying to imbibe as much as it could with its large eyes
dancing around the earth; to better understand the place it was now going to
exist; diligently continuing the CHAPTER OF EXISTENCE.