A place called home...

The view of earth from outer space is breathtaking,reminiscent of its genesis,a time when it was woven together,birthed into existence. A perfect Montage  for life.
It spun on its axis in an endless dance, perhaps a dance of life.  Like the heart that beats for an eternity else it dies,so our little place called home wabbles around. It ,too ,winds an imaginary track. It runs a course never ending. No one is pursuing,yet it must go on circling,at least for dear life's sake. Any cessation in its motion would be deleterious.
The scene soon takes on a new hue. The contrast is immense. Take one look and you are greeted with beautiful scenes. The sky is blue and clear,seas too,with waves thrusting gentle ripples across . Rains come to water the thirsty land,and as if in response to a resurrection call,an army enumerable in number rises from beneath. Creatures ,minute in size yet ginormous in number are waken from their temporary burial in the dust of the earth. They take to flight,and in their array,they seem to obliterate the rays of the sun. Colour soon beqearths the once singletoned miliue. Vegetation carpets the ground.
Little children noise abroad their happy estate.  Families are in one accord, complete with heydays. Neighborhoods are a safe and friendly haven for play and rest,and work too. Just what the doctor ordered.
Take another turn and the air teams with a choking odour . The once friendly army of creatures turns on the valuable crop. Man's sunstainace is at the mercy of their saw toothed jaws.  They creep and hop,and fly too. Before them is a garden of eden,while their reer reels in agony,as if a deathly scourge had swept through.  The rippling seas rise as if in defiance of nature's law, and hurl a flood doom onto the land,wreaking havoc in a moment's breath.
The rains ,the usual heralds of life,suddenly seem to fall in unwonted vengence. All this leaves man in a derg.
The caprice of man's insatiable desires leads him to wage war for nothing but pride, a wreath of  glory. Time and effort are expended to devise or create arsenals of mass destruction. Family ties are sawn asunder,the cords by which society is  bound are dashed to the ground. I recall hearing a little child in a motion picture giving a rather thought provoking answer to a qerry from her mom. Her mom asked,"Hey,what do you wanna become when you're all grown up?" The reply came in sweatest melody, "I wanna be a patient" in amazement,her mom curled up and asked,"Why?"  She replied,"That way,dad (who happened to be a medical doctor and  seldom had time to be at home) can spend more time with me,since he spends more time with patients" . This almost brought a tear to her now heart broken mom. It seems tears are the order of the day ,as if a way to Mollify oneself from the the pains of life.
Behind every dark corner,a gang of delinquents lie in wait to ambush an unsuspecting wayfairer. A homeless or perhaps a runaway child sobs in want for warmth and comfort of family,not in word but in deed. A young beautiful lady,or two gathers courage ,a misnomer indeed, to brave the inauspicious nightly cold,and the terrors that lurk ,in a bid to trade her body at the stock market of her own making. She sales cheap,perhaps with good reason-to bring home a loaf of bread  to her starved little 'angel' , to be the mother she had never once had herself. And this at great cost,for so little a wage.
In constant apprehension of what may befall,man wreathes in anguish ,sometimes,too great a cross to bear it seems.  Sometimes,our greatest fear is not death itself,but a life of pain and misery. One would call for death to his aid for relief . For in death,there is sweet repose,for both friend and foe,pauper and affluent. For there is no awareness of anything that ensues under the sun.
I guess we live in a world of stack contrast,a beautiful terrible situation.
What happened to the dream of a better day,can we still hope for one?I guess we can still hope, it's our lot to have this hope amid the wiles.