The desolate landscape sighed.
Its desultory angst wrapped in
Shards of impotent hope;
Still bemoaning
The loss of its verdant yesterday
It nudged me,
Cajoled me, into wakefulness.
And I…
I rose from the ashes,
From the glowing embers
Of a burnt past annihilated
By apathy.
Yes, I…
I rose from the ashes
And threw off the somnolent
Duvet of suppressed hope.
I stretched my palsied limbs,
Shrugging off the dusty cobwebs
Of inaction,
I gasped in a ragged sooty breath.
But I…
I rose from the ashes,
For my slumber, I ended.
Even though chafed and
Left to languish,
I still rose.
————————————-
Author’s note – This poem is a salute to the indomitable spirit of the human race. Like earth, we too embody the capacity to rise from our ashes, even if it is us who reduced everything to ashes.
Image courtesy – sierraclub.org
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