The Vanishing Wilds

Everywhere I look, I see the concrete jungle
full of people jostling one another,
the towers stretching high, the space between
packed with colourful cars speeding along the roads.
In vain, I try to find the trees of my childhood
only to spot a plant here and there—the
remnants of the once widespread forest—
the shrubs lined in the middle of the road
more tamed than the traffic around.

My eyes still look for the kids who played here,
who swung on the branches, and fed the little birds,
following them through the wilderness
paths that led to the enchanted world
hidden among the dense woods.
Now, the kids have grown up,
and so has the fairy tale
into a nightmare of epic proportions
where no child can dare to step
for fear of getting trampled
under the racing machines
that rule the now civilized path.

©K.A. Acharya 2018

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6 thoughts on “The Vanishing Wilds

  1. So true…. I miss the village life where all was green and pure…. the city leaves no time for us to pause and reflect on what we have lost. The cost this planet has paid for mindless economic progress can perhaps never be recovered.

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