Drought Poem by prabhakar bhatlekar

Blazing sun sharpened
web of cracks.
Old farmer remembered a puzzle
in his grandson's story-book.
With eyes closed he hummed a hymn.
The waterless region had
a great tradition of
saints and hymns.
When the noose of debts
snatched away his only son,
his widow stopped the
daily worshipping of house-gods.
'Ask lord for the help...he's kind
to help you! ' old man muttered
a stanza, struggling to
forget the incident.
A shadow of a vulture startled
him. Spreading it's large wings
it flew towards the temple-hill.
A momentary contrition stung
old man for stopping the daily
round of the 200 steps temple.
Harsh sun began burning his pain.
'Why he came to this useless land? '
he asked himself still trying
to mutter the hymn-but now
despondency overflowed the
wrinkles of his dark face...
Holding a banana leaf above head,
from far, little boy tried to search
grandpa through the web of cracks.