Before me flowed the gurgling, placid river.
Behind me rose the tree-clad, peaceful mountain.
“Man says this is his world,” I reflected,
“And yet there was a time when there was no man.
Did this old world exist the same without man?
“I was flowing then,” murmured the river.
“I was standing firm,” whispered the mountain.
“Man now,” I thought, “seems bent on self destruction.
A million fiendish things he has invented-
Each one more deadly than the one before it.
If he succeeds in self-annihilation,
will this world he says is his go on without him?”
“I’ll be flowing still,” murmured the river.
“I’ll be standing firm,” whispered the mountain.
Credits:
This is a poem by Peace Pilgrim. You can find out more about Peace Pilgrim here.
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