Love's God or God's Love,
It makes no difference with a dove,
For its life, was no better,
In the hands of a Hunter.
"My Lord!" asked the dove,
"Tell me, What's love?
Born-free, am I, to fly high,
Or, born-food, for others, as a fry?"
"Take me not home, for your bite,
Allow me to live, it's my birthright.
Thus, my Lord, with my freedom won,
Let my life go on, right under the Sun."
The hunter stood spell bound,
For no good answer, he found,
As for him, the word "love' meant,
Killing-spree birds, in his hunt.
Why God was so partial, he thought,
That, no matter, one life was caught,
For another life, to feed on its prey?
Oh, God! Was there no other way?
Suddenly a voice from the sky, he heard,
That spoke, "My son, it isn't only of the bird,
What you thought of, just now, on the earth,
God loves every living being from its birth."
"Say! No one eats flesh, but only grass,
Will not the earth be full of grass?
If all the creations eat only grass,
What becomes of the fate of the grass?"
"One wild animal eats not another wild,
But the one that eats leaves and grass, behold!
So, a grass-eating deer, isn't a vegetable to a lion?
Yes, as good as a potato to a vegetarian?"
"Will not this earth be full of animals,
With no planned growth, nothing but chaos?
The fittest will survive, is the law of nature,
But God loves all the creations, be sure."