Wake Up! Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

Let me be.
Just be,
Nothing more.

There is war in time,
Trapped into a funnel
Where life clogs,
And stinks of warring smog.

Some like the smell of spilled blood,
And the shrill laughter of flying bullets;

Others,
Like me more gentle,
In the bower of life
Seek a tender shade
Where sweet smell of incense hovers in the air
And love blossoms.

This world has changed, love:
A seething turmoil now
A restless place
Caught into the sticky embrace of a mad configuration.

Blessed is he then
Who finds peace in the eye of this uncertainty.
I raise my eyes
And find the withered blooms coming to life
And rejoice.

Colours blaze trails of hope,
And divine fragrances weave tissues of new life.
Your hatred
And your bullets lie buried in the filth of shattered venom.

There is joy,
New gentle joy.

Crestfallen,
War squirms defeated.
From the vigour of the eternal love
Life has vindicated itself.

You can shatter the stars
And shake the moon.
You can dry the ocean
And obliterate the sun,
But I still am
The eternal am!

Still the same old vessel of love
Which neither you nor I can destroy
I am and know I am.
And you are
And know not that you are.