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The Offering
Jan 2 9: 30 pm
From the ground gathered freely,
A shaded grass, a fallen flower
A star shaped leaf, a clover green,
A ripened fruit, a rising prayer!
At first a note, then chorus...
Wants budding by the hour!
Greed growing like the serpent,
Religion - it's crowning power...
And in that serpentine queue,
Many a flower was trod...
Many a sigh suppressed...
To be told to an absent God!
Created by an imagination,
Twisted as its need...
The cult of worship strengthened,
Upon the wings of greed!
The lengthening queue fast pushed on,
The incense boy, the rising priest...
Flowers wilting with their own weight,
Of senses this a senseless feast...
Earth raided of its jewels...
The old man's cry, the young's lament!
The beggars look, the pauper's dirge,
Life's requiem, the soul's soft plaint...
Sent from my iPhone
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