THE upsurge of waves
Unhinges
The calm of seas.
The stream of thoughts
Unsettles
The quiet of life.
The peace
That we never aspire
Thrives in trees and stones.
We suffer struggling
Sinning to escape
From the silence of still life.
Life is becoming
An agonising race
In search of the mirage of peace.
Mother, save us
From this self-swatting race:
Or, turn us all
Into trees and stones.