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

Tropical Morning

This day is as gray as my eyes

With storm clouds as thick as my hair

I kneel by the edge of the pier

And wait for the rain to begin


Washing me out of this morning


A raindrop precedes a downpour

A movement – a numbness, a death

I’m certain there aren’t many steps

Left for my bare feet to climb

Till life starts pouring

Out my heart, ever hopeful and burning


Wild vertical sea tumbles down

And colours air ashen and cold;

I’m sorry I’ve never been told

One could drown on dry land

If it’s pouring like today –

In a rain on a tropical morning