Nature And Dissent Poem by Arvind Srivastava

Dissent,
the scream of a river,
crashing against the dam's walls,
its throat choked,
yet its drops carve through stone,
I stand by the bank,
feeling its pain in my bones,
and wonder,
is my silence just as heavy?

Dissent,
the breath of a mountain,
shattered by dynamite blasts,
every speck of dust cries,
"I was here, "
I touch that soil,
red like blood,
and something trembles within me,
as if I've cut myself open.

Dissent,
in the pyre of a forest,
blazing from our carelessness,
trees turn to ash-bones,
birds flee, shrieking, abandoning the sky,
I breathe that smoke,
and my lungs whisper,
"You lit this fire."

Dissent,
from a city sky,
wrapped in a shroud of smog,
even the sun looks weary,
I stand on the roof,
yearning for a clean breath,
and my eyes burn,
are these tears, or just dust's excuse?

Dissent,
from the depths of an ocean,
suffocating in plastic,
waves vomit corpses onto the shore,
not fish, but our fragments,
I taste that salty water,
and bitterness fills my mouth,
a bitterness that's mine.

Dissent,
with every seed,
buried under concrete,
I stand in its place,
listening to its stifled dream,
and my legs tremble,
am I, too, something used?

Nature and dissent,
tearing at each other,
yet dwelling in each other's wounds,
she burns in silence,
I scream in silence,
this dissent blazes in my chest,
because without it,
I'd become part of that ash.
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