Wayanad Weeps Poem by Vinaya Joseph

In the cradle of dawn, the earth softly wakes,
A delicate balance, each life that it makes.
Whispers of wind through the emerald leaves,
Echo the harmony that nature believes.

Streams weave like silver through valleys so green,
Reflecting the peace of a world serene.
Mountains stand guard, tall sentinels they,
Watching the dance of the light through the day.

But shadows encroach on this delicate thread,
With whispers of warning, of futures to dread.
Forests are felled, their guardians weep,
Oceans grow warmer, secrets they keep.

Creatures once thriving now struggle to breathe,
In a world where the balance begins to seethe.
The chirp of the sparrow, the roar of the sea,
Cry out in unison, 'Let us be free.'

Each fragile leaf, each drop of the rain,
Calls for a kindness to lessen the strain.
To honor the life that blooms in the light,
And shield it from harm, to set it aright.

For in the tapestry of nature's grand weave,
Every thread matters, every life we must cleave.
To cherish the world, to let it renew,
Is to treasure the bond between me and you.

Yet today in Wayanad, the earth shook with a cry,
A landslide came tumbling from the sky.
Hills that once stood, majestic and grand,
Came crashing down upon the land.

With a roar, it took homes and lives in its wake,
A sorrow so deep, it makes the heart ache.
On screens we watched the horror unfold,
Stories of loved ones left untold.

Families torn apart by nature's wrath,
In a moment, futures altered, paths.
Silent prayers rose amidst the debris,
For the lives lost, for the wounded and weary.

As the news spread, a collective sigh,
Grief unbound beneath the sky.
How fragile the line between life and death,
How precious each moment, each breath.

The tears of the sky mingled with ours,
A reminder of nature's vast powers.
Yet amidst the sorrow, a call to heed,
To care for our world, to plant a new seed.

For every forest felled, a life is at stake,
Every river polluted, hearts break.
The balance we tip, the price we pay,
Is seen in the tragedies of today.

Wayanad weeps, the earth is scarred,
The cost of neglect, a future marred.
But from the ashes, a lesson to learn,
A call to action, for the tides to turn.

Let us rebuild with hands of grace,
To honor those lost, to face.
The truth that stares with eyes so clear,
We are the stewards, our duty is near.

To heal the wounds, to mend the land,
To stand together, hand in hand.
For in the cradle of dawn, the earth softly wakes,
A delicate balance, each life that it makes.

Whispers of hope through the emerald leaves,
Echo the harmony that nature believes.
If we listen close, with hearts so pure,
We'll find a way to make it endure.

So let the streams weave through valleys anew,
Reflecting the peace, a promise true.
Mountains stand guard, tall sentinels they,
Watching the dawn of a brighter day.

For in the tapestry of nature's grand weave,
Every thread matters, every life we must cleave.
To cherish the world, to let it renew,
Is to treasure the bond between me and you.

And though Wayanad's tears flow like a river,
We shall rebuild, with strength and vigor.
In memory of those who faced the fall,
We pledge to honor, to protect us all.

A fragile ecosystem, a world so fine,
In every leaf, in every vine.
With every heart that beats in tune,
We can restore, beneath the moon.

To nurture the earth, to heed its plea,
To let it thrive, to let it be.
For in the cradle of dawn, a new day breaks,
A delicate balance, each life that it makes.

This poem weaves in the tragic landslide in Wayanad, reflecting the sorrow and the call for collective action to protect our fragile ecosystems.