The Age Of Mother Earth Is Numbered Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

The sun danced along joyfully
The moon clapped beautifully
The breeze swung here and there
The stars came singing of hope,
The oceans, the rivers and the sand
Gathered in the field to watch nature.


When you go home do not eat
The manner shall fall this night
The activist shall rise without mouth
Without your nose shall mouth stand
The age of mother nature is written
on my palms and can be counted here.


Tell grave that mother must not come
to her with a bleeding body that curse
Tell the idle ants not to boast to father
Tell the jobless birds that nature is angry
Make them eat their vomits and venoms
For being jobless on the sky's market place.


I can stand and judge the earth
I can count the forest with my eyes
Do not look at my eyes locked away
I am the night of the night in dreams
When Nature comes home with me
on the Bamboo chair shall he sit to eat.


The age of mother earth is numbered;
Her age is written before men of grace
Soon, she would be gone from this planet
Soon, she would be tale to tell to fables
Our children shall see her no more here
but shall be told of her troubles to men.


When the messiah shall come in glory
The earth shall be no more but a snow
Where will you be then at sight of this?


(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016