Panogestically Awkward

A being of awkwardness,
Slides his phone out,
Opens the camera,
Holds it high in the air,
Records from right to left,
Stops at where I sit,
Right hand pinches outward,
Zooms into me I guess,
A being of awkwardness with a
Good panogestically ramic video,
But lacks nature,
No stars or constellations,
Neither streams or trees,
Ah the struggle of nature
In the presence of awkward men.

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An Open Book

Look through me for a second,
Open my eyes and dive into me,
Behind the blink the city lies,
Streetlights on steps to ascend,
Towards the mind and its heaven,
Or descend to a rainbow gathering,
Flutes and harps strung in peace,
Let the sky twinkle in your smiles,
My cosmos at your warm heart,
See for yourself my evolution,
And the rise of a civilisation,
A leader, thirty years in the making,
Who is mad about natural beauty,
A nature to search for pure souls.

An Insightful Smile

Just when I claimed authority on naming the hidden souls,
Few emerged from the deep caverns of our mischievous era,
And few ascended into the glorious stage of heavenly winds,
But naming without seeking insight is an act of treason,
Treason towards the nature’s call for a justifiable beauty,
Such that we may realise not to disturb a leaf’s descent,
Or not to curse the cloud’s choice to reduce visibility,
Now that I have discovered the need not to name you,
I am free to be one with nature to gain an insightful smile.

Friends of Nature

Let the sun escape through the
Leaves and reach her pink cheeks,
Let the calm wind wave its wings
On AA’s smile and fly around us,
Let the songs of birds translate into
RC to reach our lovely hearts,
Let heavenly wisdom condense
Into AS’s soul for a blessed day,
Let the energetic flow of rivers run
Into SG to share his dance,
And let the wildest of flowers
Bloom the wonders of SK.

Meanwhile, their natural whispers enter
My inner core to enlighten our era.

Urbanisation of the East

I dig into the graves of the butterflies –
Once soaring over the habitats of men
To share a dancing ritual in a ceremony –
And I find the final jigsaw puzzle piece,
Puzzling my peaceful self as I unearth the truth,
Concrete cremating our buried Mother Nature.