The pome

the samsara*
taught me the following:
‘war is a positive check
on population’,
‘the survival of the fittest’,
and ‘my enemy’s enemy
is my friend’

the three uncaring fruits
have poisoned the world,
the prosaic lines have 
written horrid histories, end to end

but now I have uprooted
those damaging thoughts,
I have now sown
the seeds of love
on the golden space
to heal the endangered zone,
it’s my world I reclaim

from within, I sense
this burning flame,
of planting
an enchanting poem

samsara*, the material world