Thought
Soon to dominate blue sphere
And disturb the atmosphere
Rivers, seas with strings fills
Strangled gates of fishes’ gills
Cough with smelly smoke in hair
Pumping methane in the air
Scratching holes for mineral gain
Yet Mother never did complain
Instead her loving arm enfolds
Comfort for the child she holds
Taking forgetful souls by hand
To immortal unblemished land
Trust that she removes all doubts
That all strong enemies she routs
That food, air and thought’s supply
She never allows flow to run dry
Prayer
O Mother I surrender at Thy feet. Why should I worry about this world when you look after everything and give me the capacity to transform discord into harmony? I ask not that you carry me, but for the certainty that you are always with me, in me through me and beyond.
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