Flowers

Do you not say I’m omnipotent, Omnipresent? I created you, Your family And the nature Around you. Would I not be able to Smell and see the flowers That surround you? Why pick them up in lots, Pluck them off their Lives, sew them with Needles, and gift them As garlands to an image Of me: your temple deity. What joy I get, tell me? If I see my creations Being ravaged by man’s Ruthless hands. Like you, They would love to live A carefree life of freedom And sunshine. Why smother them Prematurely, wither them With your plucking fingers? Don’t crush them to offer me Pushpanjali. Let them breathe in the Breeze of the garden Where they belong… Let the bees savour their nectar. Do not give me bouquets Of dying flowers… I’m just as happy To see them Blossom :) In the branches of The swinging trees. Why make them bare and barren? They look so naked without their Adornments – the beautiful flowers That drape them in beauty… Listen to me, my dear devotee. You happen to see me everywhere, Don’t you? You talk of my omnipresence, So why don’t you see That I don’t need Flowers from thee To please me. They are there for nature to show us How flowers look beautiful in their Natural beauty…don’t pluck, please. Won’t you heed me?