We let things happen

We let things happen. It suited us to look the other way till it all slapped us in the face and locked our doors.

We let rivers die; we let forests shrink.

We let highways that were not required be built. We let thousands of  trees be cut. 

We complained among ourselves, but we did nothing about it.

We ignored the basics that humans must have and we let the poor become poorer still, for it suited us and gave us lifestyles we could not otherwise hold.

We ignored our rich natural, built and intangible heritage that had been built over millennia.

We are responsible for the way things are, because we let them happen.  

For worse, or if we choose, for better.

(The photograph is of the Rosa Brunonii, the Himalayan Musk Rose)

The Noisiest Spring

Past the blooming calla lilies

The struggling petunias of the garden 

Beyond iris flowered and gone

Fleabane on stone

Bergenia along still-dry moss.

Madness

Of red rhododendron in the woods.

Air-polished,

The distant snows shine.

The river water, as we are told,

Is clear,

Drinkable

A leopard, or was that two?

Wait for the lights to change.

A foursome of deer move

From the rough to the green.

A civet cat not seen

Sets out to examine the marketplace.

 We watch from our windows,

The noisiest spring of the century goes by.

© Raaja Bhasin 2020