Lands of birth, blithely berthed,

in a blue green ocean safely ensconced,

abruptly, arbitrarily became

entities of forlorn memories, only in name

staying the same, of its denizens

cavalierly decanted, of souls and spirits

dispossessed, no choice given

to stay put, or to return,

fates not their own, but subject to the diktat

of potentates, by rules of realpolitik

actuated, and prompted by expediency.

There have followed unseemly

displacements and dispersions, existentially

mortifying, with the clamour and quest

for restitution, voices in highest places

rightly resonating, only heard not heeded

where it mattered.

The flora and fauna of paradise

yearn for the former familiar countenances,

craving their tender affections,

wishing for a resurgence of harmonies

of all parties and the peaceful confluence

of the pristine past and the fraught present

to be finally complete.

23 Nov. 2019