ODE TO MY LITTLE DREAMS

Oil spill in gulf countries… And the news related to it inspired me to write this poem…. It is, the wailing of a dying bird on the surface of sea

Ode to my little dreams

 

It was not like this before

It began when I landed

To catch some fish

Not for me but my fledgling

 

I cant flap my wings

I am floating in waves

Some sticking thing in my feather

Fish in my beak is dead

 

Waves as noisy as before

Some filthy darkness all around

I cant cry for help

Who is there to help?

 

Darkness seems to be seeping

Into my dream filled soul

My little ones how can they fly

When there is nobody to teach

 

Their wings may not grow

For lack of food and air

Feathers may miss many breaths

May never be tamed by winds

 

Even if, little wings grow

They will be smeared, arrested

By a dark filthy thing like this

Called ignorance, of flying

 

These dead fishes on the surface

Pop up and down in the uncertainty

Of next destiny waiting for them

As if there remains many, still

 

Waiting for a death by a black sea

Among so many dead bodies

Without fulfilling my dreams

Seems filthier than death itself

 

Large wings, symbols of my life’s freedom

Lay surrounded by dead bodies

Is a ridiculous sight indeed

A callousness that cant be named.

 

Only if I know the ‘why’

I can embrace death peacefully

Dying in ignorance is terrible

Than being hanged by injustice

 

 

Oh waves, take me, devour me

Do not miss this chance to kill me

Or I will die in an explosion of grief

In memory of a stunned life..

You spare for my little ones

 

Death, black death

Have thy Pyrrhic victory upon me

Never delay

To establish your supremacy

Upon my drowned dreams.

Lying beneath this filthy sticking stuff

That arrested my feathers and life.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

The magnitude of this catastrophe is not yet known, but I fear both human and animal will be suffering from it for a very long time. Mankind's greed is killing everything.