The fruit of knowledge?
a misnomer---civilisation smells
of rotten debris amidst
the ruins of hope-- spells
the doom and decay
of moral character--
sacrilege!

once at the beginning of time
there was beauty, grandeur
innocence, purity and order
even without the use of words
earth was pregnant with a language
with songs and sounds that out-rival
every man-made wonder
at every bend there's the fruitfulness
the tender touch and the smile of nature-

where has the glory fled?*
why have the songs died?
why is human good dead?
why has the heart so bitterly cried?


silence
hush
dusk sets in
then night
makes its presence
the earth is still
not the gentlest murmur
from the bordering sea
nor the faintest rustle
from any hidden tree
not a single bird-song
is heard from the timeless hill

the hours deepen
as the sky's clouds further
they darken
the heart weeps
desolate, alone,
melancholy stricken

the orchard no longer
bears any fruit
it's cold and barren
the farmer turns away
the ground is sullen

no one
could be sure
when would be
the season of fruitfulness
if it would ever happen

it's the world
we live in
desperate
lost
forlorn
helpless
in its fruitlessness.