Patience and Green earth

Deforestation goes on ,
as if it is man’s prerogative,
Man’s thoughtless sickle
Fells the branches of the
ageless tree, the roots
spread on the brown earth,
yonder, on the neighbouring
hills, the cicadas on tall trees,
make a mockery of those
smart , busy hands,
blackbirds pour in as if
in elegiac mood,
oh! Man, why do you
turn the green earth
into a brown , colourless
wading pool of dry and wry,
Mother earth, which is embodied
Patience, bemoans and decries
Setting sun shadows the
Stubborn deforestation .