Mother nature’s glory
And her simple stories,
My granny used to tell,
Beside the village well.
She would lead us to the mountains,
High above the sky, freely flowing fountains.
Among the clouds we would fly unscathed,
Our imaginations like fledglings newly hatched.
But, gone are those days of carefree stories,
Nature’s heart soaked in worries.
Man’s relentless exploitation,
Consume nature without hesitation.
Nature bleeds red with rust,
Her crown decorated with dust.
Oh! hear the plea, every nation,
Restore mother nature,
and save every future generation.
First published in Sky Island journal.