The fat clouds
are finally delivering
their promise—
their bloated paunches
dumping watery splats.
And trees
are dancing dithyrambics!
Flying green and wild flags!
And O
that it would not stop!
That tonight
the air, the streets
would be cool.
The fat clouds are finally delivering their promise— their bloated paunches dumping watery splats. And trees are dancing dithyrambics! Flying green and wild flags! - - - - - - - - - - - - - In my country the Summer Season lasts full four months.Summer days are longer and very hot.People wait eagerly for the arrival of monsoon and when it arrives there is a real celebration among people.Your poem paints beautifully the picture of Monsoon arriving and the ensuing joy around.
thank you, bharati, for reading and commenting on this poem. o blessed rain! -glen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I do like how in the title you have A Prayer, and then in the poem you are honestly giving thanks, for the heart of the prayer which is that moving fourth stanza. Perfectly put together poem Glen, very nice.
thanks, smoky. here in albuquerque, new mexico moisture in precious. but often in the summer season when we hope, we pray for rain we're teased by high-flying promises. i've wondered from reading your stuff—do you live in the upper midwest? -glen