Plough the land and pull the weed,
Burn the weed and burn the seed,
Grain and fruit our children need,
Tomorrow is what we should heed.
It spreads far; it spreads wide;
Allows no grain to grow beside,
It sucks the earth and drains its mirth,
No healthy fruit can take its birth.
Too many hands with too many tools
For too many days and too many nights
Should burn the seed and pull the root
To allow the growth of grain and fruit.
We may suffer today; you may starve tonight;
But be sure my young man, tomorrow is bright;
Ye can feast your eyes with magnificent sight
Of future children dancing with spright.
Clouds give us the real messages
Not the recorded SMS ones;
Time shows us what truth is
Not the printed pages of the text book.
Mother earth can hold the germ
Longer than our flesh and blood;
And the germ so tiny in size
Holds the whole life in it.
Wind carries the germ far and wide
To be planted in the soil and to wait;
The time comes and it sprouts and grows
An awesome fruiting tree is right in our front.
I don’t run hither and thither
But look into the sky for my message.
I know life takes its turns like the creek
That flows from hills and runs for fields.
I don’t search for God or ask Him anything
The Divine Nature takes its decision.
And takes care if I I have a worthy germ
Or uses me as manure when I decompose.