The Monsoon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The clouds are closing,

Thirsty soil awaits the rain;

/

My eyes are closing,

And I hope to be revived;

/

Roads run like rivers,

Carrying away

/

Dry loads of summer days,

Ashes of summer lives;

/

My heart is open

As I hope to be revived;

/

I chase the road

Which is too long for me;

/

And drops of monsoon rain –

Nature’s all-seeing eyes

/

Follow my steps

From leaves of ancient trees;

/

And thunder roars at me,

Forbidding that I stop

/

And lightning points the way

I’m meant to go

/

My eyes are closed, my heart

 Is open, and I walk

/

Into the core of the monsoon

To be revived or gone

12 thoughts on “The Monsoon

    1. Thanks for your comment, Carl! I certainly don’t think we have much say in the matter: we just walk out of the house and into the world; and whatever happens to us there we have to deal with as best we can.

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