The Rhythm of Life

This is a poem about how we stop appreciating our lives as we get too much busy with our hectic urban lifestyles.

The birds sing as the sun rises,
And another morning in our life goes by.
The river sparkles, the rainbow glimmers,
And we don’t even realize why.

Why are the vistas so beautiful?
Why blows the refreshing cool breeze?
They are so to nurture us,
To delight it when the sore heart grieves.

We keep our faces straight, inside an elevator,
Or in a congested bus.
Not acknowledging the colorful lives around us with a smile,
And at night, sleeping artificial sleeps in an industrial hush.

No more is the melodious cuckoo singing to wake us up,
Or the river’s ringing voice singing us a lullaby.
We close our eyes in a sleep that isn’t therapeutic anymore,
But just a synthetic rejuvenator of senses, overburdened by the hectic day that has gone by.

In the cut throat world that pushes and propels us,
do we ever realize what we have been neglecting in our lives?
We’ve lost peace and bartered it for money…
Better than us are the honest bees in their busy hives.

At least they don’t degrade their moral values,
And don’t deprecate the laws that nature made for them.
They live and die in nature’s lap, not like us;
Taking birth and dying in a concrete jungle where everyday more people cram.

Let’s pause for a while and inspect what we have done to our lives…
Corroded and corrupted it beyond repair.
The soul rebels and begs to be freed from materialism, but for the lust of wealth,
We murder our conscience while it screams in despair, ‘not fair!’

We shall grow old, and the music won’t last,
So let’s return to Mother Nature, let’s get away from this routine strife.
We’ve lived wrongly long enough, let’s just sit and feel the beat,
Let us feel the rhythm of life.

The End

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