TO BLOOM LIKE FLOWERS
-
Emily
Critchley (U.K.) & Palitha Ranatunge (Sri Lanka)
We wonder how you see us
We wonder how you ever saw us
We wonder how you hear us
We wonder how you ever heard
us
We wonder how you feel us
We wonder how you ever felt us
We lie motionless when you stroll
over us
We are countless in our
families
of
cicadas, moths, dragon flies, butter-flies, ants,
………………………………….
our offspring that have many
life cycles.
………………………………….
No wonder you didn’t see us
No wonder you didn’t hear us
No wonder you didn’t feel us
We are too trivial for
your
big eyes
big
mouths
big
brains
We are light as tiny grass
easily trampled beneath your
feet.
………………………………….
We see you send a worker with
a face mask
rubber gloves, rubber caps and
heavy boots
as if
fighting a pandemic
a platoon
of killer bees
or
nuclear holocaust.
You send a one-man army
equipped to spray
enough poison to rid our tiny
corner of theworld
of wild grass and seeds
our
innocent ground
ouroldest
ground
burial
site of trillions of our dead.
………………………………….
Green layers of a million
diverse tiny living beings
plants and organisms – so much
life beneath the green.
………………………………….
You walk on Sundays with kids
and a wife
- your family-
yet tiny us have no such
right.
The devil must also be a
family man.
He must stroll with kids and a
wife
little kids with vampire teeth
teasing their father
for nothing, oh, poor devil!
………………………………….
We know that you never feel us
Have you ever felt us?
Have you ever seen us?
Have you ever heard us?
We are part and parcel of the
world
There is a world within a
world made only of us.
………………………………….
Who brought you here? It must
be a god
Who brought that god here? It
must be you
Aha, we now see conspiracy
No wonder you can’t see us,
hear us or feel us
We live beneath the green
We have been here for
trillions of years
Trillions and trillions and
trillions
Do you get our point?
We don’t think so because you
are blind with ego
We bury our eggs beneath the
wet brown soil
We hope a safe passage for
them after our demise
We feel as our ancestors did
the same for us
for generations
………………………………….
generations and generations
They feel us as well. They
recite songs telling
mother earth how we bury our
eggs
beneath the wet brown soil,
wet brown soil, wet brown soil,
wet brown soil and wet brown
soil
slowly to bloom
to bloom like flowers.
****