Poetry

The Monsoon

It seems it has finally broken its silence

The tearful hot season has come to its end

The desperate farmers look up to heaven

To thank the Almighty for His care

Last evening it was dull and dreary

The sticky sweat trailing down my back

The tired animals, birds and insects

Hunting for places to hide behind

These dumb and mute can only sigh

Pant and lick their bodies to cool

Man the social animal runs for shelter

In the hope to keep his body, cool

The tireless farmers with teary eyes

Beg heaven to cool their cracked up fields

The sudden monsoon eases their pain

Helps them to plough and reap their grains

They feed the nation, but die in vain

When floods destroy their gains

They hang themselves they lose their lives

When man and nature play conflicting games

Oh, Lord! Be kind to these gentle folks

Praise be to You for Your countless blessings

Let the monsoon come timely

To gently reap the abundant goods

So man can survive …

The lonesome farmer his family too

Needs Your support to reap his field.

                                       ~Shobha Diwakar

                                         Jabalpur, India

One Comment

  1. Beautiful poem on a simple but an extremely important subject. Survival of not only a farmer & his family depends on it but in fact every life is at its mercy cos its the most important season of our life. Our very existence depends on it. The poem has depicted this idea very well.