Fresh waters gushing forth From the springs eternal Fed the roots Along the entire route For ages Through the woods and brooks.
Springs have gone dry Leaving only the traces Of their eternal flow. Roots have withered Or are dead. Trees are denuded Or dying.
Even rains are rare. They do not engender virtue. Deserts Distinguish and adore Life in life! Idlers are idolizes, Idols are idle, Ideals starve And stray Into alien territory!
To be prosecuted And executed.
Lord of Life watches this And this also- Life's real riches robbed, Treasures plundered, Sinners flourish- Sinners in society, Sinners in saintly garb Under The patronage and protection Of impotent will and toothless law.
I am still rooted in roots And feel the rot And am rotting. Will you stem the rot, O Lord?
Is it evolution Of new civilization Emerging from the Divine Dream Of molding, carving and shaping?
