Land To The Tiller
Cracked and clef soil of tolerated native mother
Beaten halo, attacked by the sun
Being friend and enemy to the end
Monsoon rain drops cried tears
Beyond of measure of sufferings keep in heart
Obeying to nature of god the body always brooks
Courageous mind and crooked back life domesticates
Keeping the dream of the beauty and smell of rose
Barren soil turning into fertile
Making dug well wetted over the land
Reaping seeds beget color of green
Mother of native attests through the centuries in time
By the history, for the people
Hostage curse is inherited
By the heart, for own future
To struggle of unjust is unavoidable
Righteous reality locking by suppression
Release of violence guides the admission
Ceaseless hope of legacy with permission
Though dark, for light dawn of full moon
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Related quotes
A Rose-bud advises man…
I asked a rose-bud, ‘who gave you your beauty? ’
And it replied, ‘my mother’s sap gave me! ’
I asked again, ‘who gave your mother plant, its sap? ’
It said, ‘the soil and rain by roots, the sun through leaves! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘who gave the soil, sun and rain such abilities? ’
It replied, ‘the One who made all things, and you and me! ’
And now the rose-bud asked me, ‘But why do you ask such questions?
Are you not made beautiful too by the same One,
Who made me, the moon, sky, soil and sun?
And yet, like you, we cannot walk or run! ’
It continued, ‘we plants feel sad we cannot move like how you do! ’
‘We buds grow bigger by each dawn;
The Maker feels so happy when we’re born,
And smiles on seeing us each morn,
Turning ecstatic, when we blossom on,
The landscape to perfume and to adorn –
By morrow, most of us are almost gone! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘are the dew-drops then because you cry? ’
And it replied, ‘they are the tears of joy and sadness of God on high,
Who knows we are born to sooner die.’
But tell me man, such questions, you ask, ‘why? ’
The rose-bud went on:
‘God gave you man, woman, a long life-span;
And do many things, you surely can! ’
God made you far more beautiful!
Be satisfied and be dutiful;
God is our Master One, most wonderful!
Praise Him, thank Him for all His gifts to you, bountiful! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-2-2010
poem by John Celes
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Journey of a body
When I fell
My mother wept for
The big boulder
Hit me on the head;
Soil was made red which
My mother’s tears washed;
Doctor’s medicine and mother’s benevolence
Cured me fast and made me fit.
Outside the house,
The vagaries of life
Fired insults and injuries
Inflicting indelible wounds;
Got the magic balm
In the touch of my mother;
Love embodied in my mother
Nothing could defeat me.
That time also came
My mother bid goodbye
To her body and her son
End of the world? End of me?
No, life went on;
With more assaults and more beatings
Injuries were green
Never found the cure
Heart started the strike
Asking for rest on alternating days
D-day arrived and my heart was relieved
Free from the past and straw for the present
I could see them taking me
Pushing the trolley into the incinerator
Mother was not there to balm my body
Oh! Nothing was left except the ash!
poem by Rajagopal Haran
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Reflections-11
1 Earth
Good dietician
One fourth mud three fourth water
Fresh, kept up green chaste
2 Land
God-made home for man
Oh, man made Satan invades
Land-made life slumping
3 Soil
Monsoon's friend lush green
Carpeted soil-spread healthy
Beasts dwell happily
4 Bharat
India's prologue
Great grand ancestral expanse
History's proud sigh
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A Drop of Rain
Dropping from unforeseen heights
From within the resonating heart of a weeping Nimbus
As the cloud cover lazily distends
To plaster the limitless wall of a heavenly fortress
In its luscious coatings of an Azure complexion
As celestial tear ducts seep a valiant tear
Dropping from apical altitudes to the suspecting soil
Sun parched land veiling the secrets of the earth
As beneath the cracked veneers, a bed of seed await their turn
To pack the soil with die-hard stems of leafy chimneys
To save mankind from the guillotines of a sun-baked terrain
Germinating the hopes of the magicians of the soil, Midas's apostles
Sowing their seed with a wand of thought, firmly clasped in to their palms
As a luscious November awaits for a sprinkle from the heavens
The legacy of the seasonal Monsoon, a promise from the Gods
To cultivate hope even in the direst of landscapes
To burgeon the soil with tides of green, for a timely transformation in to golden grains,
As a single droplet of water from the rupturing skies
Metamorphosed arid despair to steadfast optimism
The promise of a fertile crescent logging with golden grains of Serendipity
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Vande Mataram
India, my native-place, is a land of spirituality,
A symbol of great culture and civilization,
Where a host of people visit to quench their thirst of knowledge,
And to learn a lesson of love, truth, non-violence, peace and purity,
I’m proud of being an Indian, a child of Mother-India:
Who shelters all—friend or enemy, and,
Always a source of devotion and inspiration,
And I'm proud to be an Indian,
Now my heart and mind shout 'Vande Mataram'.
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
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More Than A Mother
More Than a Mother by Kenny Davis
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re a better part of my heart
Through all the tears, I look to you
For me, that’s where the joy starts
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re more like a guiding light
There in the mists of the darkness
I am drawn to you, burning so bright
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re like the sunlight after the rain
A comfort after the troubles
Removing all of my pain
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re my calm before the storm
Keeping me grounded, keeping me focused
So my faith may take its form
You’re more than a mother to me
My personal North Star
Finding myself following your glistening glow
For times, when I shall stray afar
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re like the first day of spring
Each smile from you, a simple ray of sunshine
Angels and birds would sing
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re my absolute best friend
Of all the times we have spent and shared
I hope and pray they never end
You’re more than a mother to me
You’re truly one of a kind
I am truly blessed to have a mother like you
I am glad to say you’re mine
© May 2010 K. Davis
poem by Kenneth Davis
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The Legacy Of The Soil
In my forefather's blood
Rests my gentile peasant legacy, of a dexterous islander
Born to the fertile soils of Serendip
As the seeds of my legacy were cultivated
On soggy terrain for an opportune metamorphosis
Golden terraces laden with logged grains of prosperity
A tribal farmer persona transcending mortality
To the throne of a medieval mythical kingdom
To the august presence of a sorcerer of the soil
A sower granted the wish of king Midas, miraculous palms
Sowing the twines of the intricate tapestry of my heritage
Where no swords were wielded, no blood was shed
Where no battlefields were fronted, no prisoners were seized
Where roots were laid and sprouts were sprung
A legacy like no other, to own the spirit of the soil
To harness the blessings of the sun gods
To garner the vitality of the seasonal monsoon
To cultivate hope in the promise of a bowl of rice
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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My Rose...
gift you a rose, ,
gift you my rose....
but my rose to you, is not like any rose in this world...
a rose drunk from my tears...
a rose that i take care about it by my soul...
a rose gave it a water by my blood...
and perfumed it by my love....
my rose to you, is not like an roses...
its color not like any colors...
its not a red...
and its not a white...
even not a yellow...
its color pick up from the suns` yellow color..
and mix from the seas` blue color...
and from my bloods` drops..
and from my tears...
so.. its color was mixed with my sadness and my love...
my rose to you, is not like any roses...
its perfume is not like any perfume..
its a mix between a loves` nectar...
and many of kindness, and honesty love...
my rose to you, is not like any roses...
raised inside my heart...
and takes a warm light, from my eyes` light...
and its food, from the hope, that we always wish...
and from our future, which will gather us to each others one day...
so please accept and take my rose...
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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Desert
It simply strikes our mind with barren land
Love, gestures, good will and flowers in hand
Look beyond horizons and you find no friend
Eyes get tired and find nothing in the end
This is description of desert in our mind
Nothing friendly and nature too seems unkind
Sands all over with no lively movements in sight
It is nature versus human being for rightful fight
It has its own beautiful land and surroundings
Earth and sky meet present very good bonding
Sandy winds and dry climate force us to think
Eyes get widened to see vast tracks and wink
Desert has got its own source of greenery
Palm trees and sweet water present good scenery
How beautifully camel swim on sandy soil?
Relentless struggle with natural odds to toil
How can this barren land be turned into fertile?
What best we can strive and try for it meanwhile?
It is nature and human that tries to prevail upon
Foot prints on sand emerge when we follow on
Small water well in midst of soil may quench your thirst
You may think you are not the one who has traveled first
It’s deep Sand Ocean with so much mystery in its belt
More we are inching closer to it less its impact is felt
If human natures turns desolate or into desert
It has nothing to acknowledge or new ideas to insert
Love, affection and feelings have taken back seat
As if heart is there and functions but without any beats
It has no life to be witnessed or seen on the surface
Exchange no good words or feeling when see face to face
It has turned into hard stone with nothing new to offer
Person seems to be all over dead and inside coffer
It has its unusual boom and different visitor’s influx
They swarm from distant land with colorful wing and relax
All of sudden new life emerges with arrival of birds
Green pastures attract many including cattle herds
It has all qualities to absorb, refuge and shelter
Too hot windy summer and icy severe winter
To act as kind lover and meantime hostile enemy
To show the path to all with keen interest to envy
We have lot more to learn from desert environment
There is common ground for happy and sad moments
Once upon a time they would have remained hospitable
Now turning into marshy land or islands inhospitable
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Rose-plant
A plant bore roses ten in number all,
And two got nipped when young by Nature’s way;
One blossomed to adorn God’s celestial throne;
Six bloomed becoming beauteous flowers big,
To put forth seed that fell on fertile soil,
That grew into rose-plants like their parents.
One still remains a flower big on mother-plant:
Weathered a bit, perfuming her landscape;
She yearned but could not turn into a seed!
Nevertheless, she bowed to Divine Will.
The soil was good in which the rose-plant grew,
Watered by rain and bathed by sun for years;
God’s grace and mercy nurtured her growth-curve;
Life’s storms and strife could not up-root the plant.
The mother-plant is very old in age;
Her life-partner left years back to God’s Home;
She lives by sheer will-pow’r, amidst her own,
And thanks the Maker for blessing her life;
God’s plans and ways are strange and mysterious;
Yet, earthlings must abide by Will Divine;
God gives us freedom to decide and act;
But Heaven must remain our goal always.
poem by John Celes
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The Red Rose
The red rose wept for long
Upon the autumn sad song
And then recovered from grief
And shattered the wet green leaf
The spring is there but the tears
Of lover, the autumn how bears
The little heart in search of charm
Is beating and beating and warm
The red rose is watching the gloom
Of the lover’s heart being in boom
His beloved had nodded him back
The rose from him she does not take
The nature feeling warmth is now cold
The autumn will take him in firm hold
The beauty will go leaving the scars
Of drowning moon and falling stars
The thorns will curse the rose to retreat
The red rose weeps on nature’s treat
It doesn’t matter what have gone
The rose will wait for the dawn
The spring no more helps the friend
His beauty will shatter like wall of sand
His days of life will end very soon
At morn, at noon or after noon
The rose sees autumn in the spring
A wave of sorrow his end will bring
The red rose weeps and weeps more
Upon these tears his eyes will sore
No spring can stop, no joy can amaze
With each passing moment his death he chase
So times are when autumn comes in spring
No joy can touch you no nerve can sing
February 16,2005
poem by Abdul Sattar
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My South Africa
Where the ancestor's spirits lives forever
Saluting Madiba for his endeavour
The dawn of freedom colours the eastern sky
Awake South Africa it's my cry
A nation lazy and lethargic is a slave
A bright future is to save
Unity the hope of our future
Rise my people its time to toil.
Where the Lions roars in the jungles
And the Leopards seek its prey.
The buffaloes laze in the waters
And the rhino guards its territory.
Elephants graze the vast lands
Trumpeting the divine call
See Africa's big five
A land of nature's gift
Where gold and diamonds brings money
A country of milk and honey
Maize relives peoples hunger
Wines evoke joy and laughter
Grow sunflower for our oil
Nature rewards this fertile soil
Blessed you are to till this land
South Africa's wealth will expand
Where dark clouds gather on the horizon
Helped by the winds of change
The hot sun wait's the passer by
The rain brings wanted relive
With running rivers green goes our land
Gifted with all seasons
A land of divine choice
South Africa shall lives for ever
Where the two oceans meet
Embracing the mother city
Table Mountain is elite
Serves a vision very pretty
Many came from east and west
Made history sailing by
Near an island of contest
City of passion and beauty
Where freedom was taken and given
Many sailed the seven seas
Black and white is we
Living with predators and prey
Some stayed to live forever
Made a culture of today
South Africans is one nation
Proud and happy as can be
poem by Jayram Daya
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Return of Rain
The cloud drops on my lip
On the tip of my nose
I get hugged by the drip
Ah, rain is so close!
The heat is now a story
The balm seems so near
Regaining its lost glory
Surely the monsoon is here!
Tip-tap on my windowpane
Dark floaters are busy
Pouring on men and women
Life is once more easy!
I'm glad the rain is back
To awaken the soil's green
Wipe out the summer's crack
Dance on my parched roof tin!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Oh Path ways of Goodbye
stress
the emotional
discomfort inside the four
walls corner of the room;
waiting has come to the moment
of pain to where drops of cheek full
of tears, hanging in the mid-air to fall
fresh from early dew,
a moist of the rain forest
for each leaves fall down to the
ground whisper every fertile soil to enjoy
the heart dismay,
toddler to breath in the
crib of milk in the mother lips,
though found something screw of the
hands which thumbs wealth in the palm
paddle the past to learn
the future of today and let not
be the beginning of resentment to be
gone without helping hands to hold and die
oh! lasting embrace
comes in the great quest
for a breathless request goes subdue......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Purer Than Pure Gold
O brother, purer than pure gold
Is the soil of my land.
Her soil and water
Her fruits and flowers
Quench our thirst and hunger.
as we drink from her milk-pot
To have the blessings of this Mother
Taking leftovers from her temples
Pilgrims are gratified, coming from various castes.
O brother prostrating on the dust of this land
Jewels fall down and welter,
O brother slumber of all in the world
Is broken by the touch of her magic stick.
Coating this soil and this mud
Learning from this land's good conduct
the whole world became civilized all the way
O brother this ascetic in every land
Put on the light out of love,
Mother wakes up alone through the dark night
Watching from the post of crematorium.
poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam
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Letter To Mother
Receive greetings mother
Whole i hope you are
Did the doctor treat thee?
Hope he stopped disturbance
Pain had occupied you
It made you thin
Do i call it slim?
My journey was safe
The sun city received me
It had lost me in
I was swallowed by people
This was until sunset
The city is big
Mother, i saw houses!
Not like ons at the village
They touch the sky
And have moving things
They climb to the top
I think to the heavens
Then to the bottom mother
Jacob took me to one
I was frightened
It never grow dark mother
When the sun runs away
There are lights all over
Bright as the sun
And the people never change
Morning as the night
They never go to their houses
The city is very busy
Remember Koya's words?
He told of the city evils
Mother, i have seen death
I even contemplated one
Robbers had attacked us
They took away everything
Mother, even my teeth
I thought of dying
Life was difficult then
City life
Worry not!
Am a man of your womb
I work hard daily
Change came yesterday
It brought a stool
And will stay for long mother
I can now buy tea and bread
Not forgetting a daily newspaper
Mother,
Everyone has someone
My eyes have been open
And i have seen a lovely girl
She carries all beauty
My heart is no longer mine
It belongs to her
She stole it away
My body has been feeling weak
The knees cannot withstand her
They always collapse
Is this how you felt mother
When daddy was wooing you?
The girl has made me write
She is not one of ours
Her language is different
But her colour is as yours
I know she is like you
Do not dissatisfy my point
Mother, accept her as she is
Allow me to go mother
Because i have to
My pen has felt tired
Let me go and strengthen it
Do not forget the full stop
I will start there next time
Am not yet finished mother
That girl is wonderful
I wont stop talking
I will always write it to you
My heart has loved
I will be back to you soon.
poem by John Muthoni
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The Great I Greet You
a new dawn appeared again
to dream you the new dreams
to renew the passion
bleed you much the last long
a new dawn brings a chain of seconds
365 x 24 x 60 x 60 =
to greet you again
to illuminate surroundings
to ignite pains
to embark agony
to acquire ecstasy
be grateful for those days you have passed
be grateful for stepping a new turn
be grateful for you the green sphere arranges
every moment the air the light the water the soil
catches you hold to stand straight to walk on foot
pulls you near to the surface
not to blow you away in the dark space
be grateful to our Green Globe
to our mother nature tolerates you yet
tolerates me yet
tolerates us yet and yet and yet
a new year means the dream you want to plant
the fruits would make our generation enlightened
caring and peaceful soldiers who will save the mother again
Pranab k c
11/01/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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The Time Of The Turning
In the big house
Where the sun lives
With the walls so white and blue
In the red soil
All the green grows
And the winds blow across your face
They blow across your heart
It's the time of the turning and there's something stirring outside
It's the time of turning and we'd better learn to say our goodbyes
All the earth breaks
Like a stale bread
And the seeds are folded in the soil
Oh the sun pours
Then the rains fall
While the roots reach out right through the ground
They reach out through the ground
It's the time of turning and there's something stirring outside
It's the time of turning and the old world's falling
Nothing you can do can stop the next emerging
Time of the turning and we'd better learn to say our goodbyes
If we can stand up
When all else falls down
We'll last through the winter
We'll last through the storms
We'll last through the north winds
That bring down the ice and snow
We'll last through the long nights
Till the green field's growing again
Growing again
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Africa. A land...
Africa.
A land full of mysteries,
A land where the Gods speaks,
A land where Nature talks in secret ancestral tongues,
A land rich in Culture and Heritage,
The soil, drenched in sweat and blood
Listens to the poundings of the African feet
As they dance to the sound of patriotism.
Africa.
The land of hope and bliss,
The land of milk and honey,
The land where freedom was fought for,
The land rich in natural beauty,
The people, blessed with strength and grace
Fights for the love of their land
As they listen to the pleas of the drenched soil.
poem by Muneerah Abdulrahman
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What Mean Ye?
What mean ye that ye bruise and bind
My people, saith the Lord,
And starve your craving brother's mind,
Who asks to hear my word?
What mean ye that ye make them toil,
Through long and dreary years,
And shed like rain upon your soil
Their blood and bitter tears?
What mean ye, that ye dare to rend
The tender mother's heart?
Brothers from sisters, friend from friend,
How dare you bid them part?
What mean ye, when God's bounteous hand
To you so much has given,
That from the slave who tills your land
Ye keep both earth and heaven?
When at the judgment God shall call,
Where is thy brother? say,
What mean ye to the Judge of all
To answer on that day?
poem by Anonymous Americas
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