Poet Kumarmani Mahakul

I placed my ears to the earth I heard the weeping of mothers, Who were preceded in death by their children Those who died from the cruel hands of their abusers The wars which delivered untold misery, To every race, tribe and tongue And in all of this, I detected a poet of dignity I tasted the dirt, Spitting out the aftertaste of blood The whole earth is saturated in a red tide The righteous and the wicked, How is it they share the same resting place? Vanity upon vanities! And with this, I heard a poet thank his god for his measure of bread Yet the earth has her own poem, The wicked shall be vomited from my soil! From the oceans, they will be collected, Forced to give an accounting And they will indeed be swept away forever! As regards those resting? From their slumber, They will rise Their tears will turn to joy, And poetry will again be in harmony, With every living thing, And the words amen was heard from the east I placed my eyes towards the heavens And in its poetry, I acknowledge the countless marvels and wonders, Secrets within secrets And it's poetry was flawless in its intricacies And yet, in all of this, Its heartbeat was given to the earth, The good green earth And clarity overwhelmed me, As I recalled a poet who praised others, Tributes with prayers, Yet holding back from his own glory And I realize, It is the steps of the humble, That achieves the blessings of poetry