With super-abundance of food
Yet people are hungry,
No elder seems available to say:
“Cook the food and eat”.
All are thirsty though they are by the river,
For none is there to say:
“Fetch and drink your full”.
Although every house leaks,
No voice dares to entreat:
“Why? Mend your roofs!”.
Education is all farewell “Eludetus”,
No collective courage
To make its domain “Hereditus”.
While remedies abound, all are sick,
As though all are afraid to say:
“Let’s treat ourselves”.
With dearth of leadership, age seems a burden
That, often, even legends are left with baggage
of wisdom with no space to share.
The Sage in all of us, and in our societies,
Is now a shabby, unneeded enigmatic being,
Who should but sit, passively, staring at everyone,
As though gazing at players in a drama
Whose next scenes are a subject of perplexity.
He should speak not, except where instructed,
To beseech children to sally forth to their bidding.
His harmless demeanour, should only but
Elicit a “what does the old man think” murmur.
Where he came about, the steep snags-laden climb to his age,
not a bother,
He should only be a subject of pity, or perhaps, scorn.
He is to be referenced by his appearance and, often, his age,
Everyone’s duty, or so it seems, is to
Consign him to ignorance of the modern,
And, therefore, be accorded no voice in it.
This society which lives fully on caprices,
Where everyone ‘knows’ everything,
Their strength being used to fight but themselves.
