July Time Poem by Rimni chakravarty

July Time
All 's fine
The clouds appear to pour into rains
The farmers in the paddy field bust to feed us with grains
The lilting music of rains accompanied with the whistling breeze
Lull my body, mind and spirit to cease
I fall into a trance
I visualize my me in a rain dance
Where a child holds her mother
Laugh and giggle with the pit a pit rain
She makes a paper boat taught by her mother to set it out in the nearby drain
Down the paper boat sails
Up the sky the clouds trails
At times the sun peeps in behind the clouds to watch the fun
The sparrows chirp and here and there run
In search of food
Life is good

July time
All is not fine
Nature remains the same
The small girl has grown up with life's game
Grey hairs now have grown on her head
Her mom and dad no more come to sit on her bed
They have gone away to the world of no return
It is in July she had to place her father's ash on the urn
To let it flow in Mahananda river
Without a friend to console her.

Perhaps it is wish of the Almighty?
Or else she would be looked upon with pity?
How could she learn to flow with dignity?