Mission of Love: Scribblings of a gardener

Ma!! That’s what I call my mother
The one who nursed and nurtured me
Ever young, ever loving, ever lasting
The reason of life, death and rebirth.

An amazing beauty in green, red and blue
She holds the riches in infinite measure
A giver, she gives and forgives the greedy
Who creates the misery for millions of needy

Man calls her names; continents, countries, states
And further my land, my house, my room
She gave him herself to be a free soul
But he confined himself to the shell of his own

A mother needs nothing, no sympathy she likes
She neither weeps when things go wrong
She lives and loves for she sustains lives
A river of kindness that feeds her kids

I was born in her womb, grew on her lap

I called her my Mother, I drank of her love

She gave me herself, where I could exist
And called me a name that her million kids dream

Gardener! That is my name
Heart of green! That is my home
I don’t dwell in the comfort of assets
Nor drown in the sad sea of regrets

I dare to dream my mother’s dream
To sow the tiny seeds of peace
I swim beyond the clouds and skies
To reap the harvest with a smile

I’m a gardener, I’ve well rooted friends
I prefer to toil and make my world
Of buds and blooms, birds and bees
Of whistling winds and whispering hues

I search her wisdom that they buried
Under the soil of their own homes
I get up and dig the dry lands of past
Amidst the ruins to find my fortune

When the sun kisses the earth
With a sweet song I fetch my tools
And when everything dies and nothing is left
I sing the same song to kill the chill gloom

When the world is hungry, my food fills a plate
My flowers brighten a face; my green lightens a space
I am the gardener with a mission to complete
I must get up, dig and plant a life now

When the world fights for peace with guns
When they kill their brothers to protect their lives
When everyone cries there’s no hope left
I go to my garden and plant a new life

From her soil I came, to her soil will I return
Between the two journeys let me plant life
I’m a gardener, I have to live
To leave the soft shade of the trees that I grow

I’m not a poet; but a gardener
Not unaffected by distress and damage
All I have is my time, a little or more
So let me dig now and plant a new life