Nothing Remains

Because you want it.
Because everywhere desire goes off.
Because watch! the Earth
has many alarms set before time.
Because learning flints
the sphere of ideals.
Because brains pour, down
the drain, like nothing on earth, now
and then, wing, waxing darkness.
Because knowledge towers,
sign nature off, its wing beats,
off bird, calls. Death.
Because tremendous graphics
in the geo-dynamics change
with the stream of conscious learning.
Because we sentence the Earth
with capitalized letters.
Because we plasticize
the comfort zone -
a zeroed-in conception
Because hereafter
summers over lap winters and
much green turns into burnt sienna.
Because wars, tree-shades,
pandemic-made outdoor shelters
and mercy camps de-fine home,
hereafter keep us wait in the Sun
or the leaders' uncertain merciful consent
And poetry makes nothing,
happenstances,
fleets as meteorites, of passage.
As long as the world is not too much with us
and the earth remains undone
by our lust for unbecoming desires,
Nothing Remains.

Sreekanth Kopuri Ph.D. is an Indian poet, current poetry editor for The AutoEthnographer Journal Florida, Alumni Writer in Residence, Athens, and a Professor of English from Machilipatnam, India. He recited his poetry at Oxford, John Hopkins, Heinrich Heine, Caen, and many universities. His poems appeared in Arkansan Review, Christian Century, Two-Thirds North, Expanded Field, and Chicago Memory House, to mention a few. His book, Poems of the Void, was the winner of the Golden Book of the Year 2022.