Just to clarify myself - I am posting this poem to make the readers think, if mother nature, in all her beauty, is she enjoyable the same way to all people, irrespective of their state of mind, and state of body (tired, over-worked, etc)....

My poem says 'No' - someone like the hero of this poem who is tired, worn-out, impatient to get home, poor and hungry cannot enjoy the beauty of the nature around him.

The subtle question that I might like the reader to ask himself/herself is whether the concept of 'god' -- and 'devotion' is within everyone's reach? If you say 'yes', then how about the perpetually ill-treated, perpetually troubled, suffering, poor souls... is 'belief in god' easy for them?

Now the poem -

As the heavenly breeze flows
The midday Sun's heat waves are getting subdued
Yes, it is the evening time
The sun is hiding behind the clouds
And creating an array of vibrant sky colors
The birds are flocking towards their home
And their sweet music fills in the air
Hard working laborers are returning home
Those kids who returned from the school
Are playing around cheerfully along the way
In the Lotus laden pond
Lily flowers are waiting to blossom
Amidst the buzzing busy bees roaming around
There comes our hero
Walking faster, and faster, minding his way
He moves swiftly along the rudimentary path
He has but worn out sandals in his feet
And his tired eyes are measuring the distance
Old age is weakening his frame
Whose comfort he is least bothered about
In worn out and dirty clothes
Carrying a heavy cloth bag in one hand
He walks along the footpath near the fields
Suddenly there is a sweet music
As the cuckoo starts singing from the tree
The breeze gets heavy and rocks the branches
And as the sky starts sprinkling down rain drops
It is accompanied by strong smell of fresh mud
Our friend now goes near that tree
And eyes the cuckoo and the tree very well
It is not anything else but a good resting spot
The breeze hasn't changed its direction yet
Our friend who is near the tree looks all around
And without any faltering in this decision
Throws away his torn sandals and the heavy bag
There he picks up a big and crooked stone
And throws it on the cuckoo, having aimed well
And then he feels relieved of his burdens
And moves back to this path, continuing cheerfully
So tell me friend, the fun and loving nature
Is it the same for the weary mind
As it is for you and me, to enjoy its bliss
When tired, hungry and poor, with miles to walk away?
What is nature for one
May not be the same for everyone
Each man acts out what his instincts tell him
And that isn't bound to the same, as per the law of nature!!

Thank you for reading,