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Thursday, April 8, 2010

The Rain Dancer


As the earth fumes
Under the scorching heat.

As lives go dry
And plants droop.

Afternoons
Are left
Alone to carouse
With sizzling winds.

No one gets spared 
From the summers' wrath.

In empty streets
And forlorn alleys
I hear the faint chatting
In a language unknown.
Did the clouds grumble
Or was that the earth below
Is that the rain dancer
Reeling to the native drum beat...

3 comments:

Lazy Pineapple said...

beautiful....this totally reminded me of the harsh summers of India and the patiently waiting for Monsoon to start...

aritrachatterji said...

For a moment I could forget the exhaustion in this humid evening on reading these words... thanx :)

Nalini Hebbar said...

Wanderer...I would welcome this dancer any day...Phew...it's hot!
BTW...Why am I getting all the comments to your posts into my mailbox?...