Unimpressed

By Paramjit Singh Bakhshi

The stars still shine

The moon on its journey

Waxes and wanes

The winds come and go

The rain washes over everything.

The sun rises

Without fail

The universe is unimpressed.

Unimpressed

By leftist arguments

Or our rightist lean

The petty politics

Our being so mean

Our differences

The mayhem, the violence.

The universe is unimpressed

By our minds so full

Our eyes blinkered

If not blind

Our hearts beating

In emptiness.

At a party

A woman in a silk saree

Sips freely of expensive wine

Feels superior by

Spouting idealistic argument

I have learnt to walk away

Rather than show dissent.

I know the universe is unimpressed.

It is our habit now

To add value

To our bag of flesh and bones

By espousing borrowed philosophy

Or religious content

We cloak our fears, our hate

By false benevolence

Pretend we can save the planet

Our tribe, even mankind

Yet the universe is unimpressed.

The evenings are glorious

The sunsets, a pretty picture

The birds still chirp

As they return to their nest

Only man is troubled

Carries his unease

To bed

Jostling to get ahead

Some are leaders

Some strive to be

Modern day prophets,

Influencers

Some pious, others riotous,

Some quiet, others

Pointing to our sin

With such pomp and din

Yet when the dusk falls

All are buried or cremated

Dust to dust

The universe, unimpressed.

By Paramjit Singh Bakhshi