Another day is born in beauty and innocence.
I sit in the armchair savouring my coffee
As the morning unfurls outside
While God’s peace swaddles the earth.
A gaggle of birds break the stillness
Darting from one tree to the other
For no apparent purpose but to celebrate
The new dawn and the glory of creation.
A bunch of parrots chase each other,
Squabbling in fun till they settle finally
On the farthest tree in a flurry of green.
This world of beauty is transient,
Lasting only till man gets to work,
And truth breaks out through the cloud
Of fake news and generative intelligence.
Soon the day’s newspaper arrives,
With images unmodified, of an elephant calf,
Its mouth blown up with a pineapple bomb,
Or children burnt alive with stealth missiles.
Of leaders of men grinning for the cameras,
Even as they bomb fellow humans for no reason
But the love of self and power, or mere fun.
The sun will rise again,
The birds will sing.
I will be back in my armchair
Grateful for another day.
***
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at [email protected].
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