Homeless they roam
Above the cremation ground
Watching their comrades
Charred beyond recognition
Heartbroken they ask
The heartless ones
What harm did we do?
We were only making honey
To keep our children alive
Why did you burn?
Why did you kill them all?
The trees hear them,
The breeze, too
The birds on the branches
Before they flew
But we hear only
The buzzing of bees
Inconsequential, inane
To be ignored
That is why, my children
Learn nature's language
At least your questions
Of life and death
Might then be heard
And, if by chance
By a gentle heart,
Perhaps, answered
Kishore Asthana
kishore.asthana@gmail.com