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

Pouring,

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