SILENT REVOLUTION
   

  He too is a sprouted seed,
          abruptly grown on the high cornice,

He too is a sprouted seed,
        since his birth…..
stretching his root, and stretching desperately….
        To touch the soil far below.

At any wet afternoon,
          the smell of the humid soil
makes him restless, helpless again and again.

With his fullest energy,
          stretching his root to grip the soil,
at least once , and once forever…

But, in vain,
        only had endless pain and wound.
Still that unequal war with the
          hard and heartless stone, brick and concrete
                      continues…..

He too a sprouted seed,
              flooded  every morning
      with his helpless cry
and  deadly appeal to the world,
  --- “ Let me return back
                  to the soil…
Let me live,
              let  me live  with you all.”

No message reached the soil..
    only a useless storm
            inside the little seed
                          continues….

He too a sprouted seed,
              The unbearable hunger and thirst,
                    are the only companions since birth…

….Then, after few days,
            once upon a stormy night…
truly he could touch the soil..
as his lifeless , dreamless and dry body
            falls upon the soil.

... He too a sprouted seed,
      must come back once again,
upon another cornice.

That day, no more dreams,
          no more appeal for mercy,
          no more cry

That time,
      I know,
        he will come back with
            endless explosions.

.... 'll throw himself to the ground,
  ... a fatal suicidal bomb.

Destruction for a new dawn.

~Pluto~

More Poems By Pluto

Kavitanjali

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