Roopali’s poem on monsoons transforms the parched earth, birthing lush greenery as rain-soaked clouds revive rivers, fields, and souls in vibrant renewal, for Different Truths.
They come all the way from faraway down south, those dark rain-bearing cumulus nimbus clouds over the shimmering sea sky dropping streams and waterfalls and swirling, whirling through paddy fields and verdant hills, filling up dry rivers and lakes and gushing through storm drains in uncaring cities.
Oh, monsoons, the dry summer on heat awaits your arrival to impregnate the sterile earth.
The grass sprouts up with a mighty push and spills out of nature's palette, giving birth to green.
My summer-sizzling skin soaked in raindrops wrapped in soft swaddling clouds
letting me swim once again in the amniotic fluid of Mother Nature’s womb.
Each verdant monsoon, I return to her to be born again, baptised in a burst of spring flowers.
Somewhere not far away, autumn awaits me with its yellow brush of colour.
The earth longs to embrace me again.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
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What a word picture you create Roopali! Love it!
We in Hyderabad have had a surfeit of rain and now I want some barmy weather—-some sun n some cool breeze! A cup of cha out under the portico❤️❤️❤️