How Happy Is Our Earth Poem by DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK

How happy and still is the earth
When upon her bosom come blessed events of birth
The most joyful hour alights
When in silence born pain and pleasure in delight
Upon travail of soul being stirred in her veins
At the thought of motherhood of millions
Deep down the dust dwells her essence
And of heart, soul, beauty and grace
Nothing is one and the same that her equals
For all are her creations and she is the creator of elegance
Standing high in stature and outstretching beyond
Looks firmament she carries easy on her head
And her hair black and green like cascading river shone
When she wears the sun and the moon
As earrings in her simple and pure face like a benediction
And more striking aura of her icon
Is the magical spell of her necklace
Of rainbow when at times she wears
And with plants and insects, animals and birds
She looks gorgeous for they are as well her precious jewels
Rightly called as the Goddess of wealth
For her treasures always seem wrapped in a mystery of depth
Food, oil, coal, iron and others in multitude
Season after season she gifts and as if in gratitude
And forever indebted to mankind
But in return where is the sentiment of gratitude
Or reward in penance and kind, or recompense
For she has been sullied and plundered time and again with looseness
And she bears it silently and weeps tears
That mankind sees not as reflected upon melting of polar ice caps
She creates dreams for her children in silent reverence
Birds sing and man prays to break her silence
Aloud she hears and falls asleep upon soothing notes
Like a slumbering babe dreaming in them of paradise
But let her long and deep sleep be a boon
Lest barbarity of conspiracy hits her crown
By vulnerable sounds of missiles
Hatched to arouse her ire upon she may wake up and dance
To tremor, the sounds of which may shake our walking,
Deafen our hearing and maim for ever our living
Once treated like a queen and held in high esteem
Now prays for peace unto herself and for her children whom
She carries in her bosom as consequential things of God
Handed over since time immemorial upon promise to be taken care of for good
Oh, wake up Mankind wake up
And see and wipe her tears to cheer up
For the paradise once lost can't be replaced instantaneous
Upon her bosom in a day with a new paradise