Thursday, January 16, 2020

     RAIN IN THE DRY SEASON

Wild wind in gusty rage
Peels off the soil’s surface
Until mighty sandstorms arise
Whirlwinds spiral into cones
Blurring the atmosphere.

It’s a phase in the earth’s journey
When the sun is at its meanest
Lapping up every drib of water
Emptying steam into the vastness
O, how the caked earth seeks respite!

As the belly of heaven swells
Pockets of clouds start to company
To rescue the sphere below
Already at ignition point
From bursting into a fireball.

“To battle! To battle!” they cry
Arsenals pooled by the brave warriors
Have to be launched at once;
Our orb must not go the way
Of other planets: arid and derelict.

But the fierce sun, chafed and grave
Routs the cheeky nebular soldiers
Who in valour let off their life’s fluid
In a staccato of raindrops which
The scorched earth licks up eagerly.

With strength for yet another cycle
The earth looks up with revived hope
Help is not far away
For the clouds, with mounting force
Muster a vengeful mutiny.

Basking in the euphoria of victory
The sun lets down every guard
So, darkness on daylight lays a siege
And the heavens, taking the hint
Pour out their content earthward.

Alarmed and jolted from slumber
The sun’s hurry comes too late
And now, its striped alter-ego
Bedecked in a heptad of colours
Parades the sky in splendour.

The deities are in frenzy
A deluge is feared, and
Their shelters may be swept off
For the Giver of rain is absolute
He holds command of all things.

Disconcerted, the sun
Alters its schemes and ways
And makes to work in concert
With plants, now in new spirits
That earth’s children may have food.

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