Ode To Summer Poem by Rajendra Prasad Meena Jaipur India

O Summer, puissant Sovereign of the fervent year,
Companion of the sun in his meridian pride,
Thou spreadest thy mantle of incandescent gold
Over the waiting earth and the quivering horizon.

Now June reigns in thy fullest majesty.
The noonday heavens are brazen and unrelenting;
The winds, once playful among the trees,
Lie vanquished beneath thy ardent command.

Within a darkened chamber I abide,
Where the extinguished lamp and silent fan
Bear witness to thy invisible dominion.
The air stands motionless as though enchanted,
And every passing moment lengthens
Into an age of languor and unrest.

Yet beyond the threshold
The world is no kinder.

The roads shimmer like molten glass;
The distant fields dissolve in waves of fire,
And each reluctant step beneath thy gaze
Becomes a pilgrimage through heat and light.

Strange art thou, O Season!

At times a benefactor of delight,
At times a minister of trial.

For it is thou who ripenest the mango
To nectarean sweetness upon the bending bough;
And thou who paintest the evening heavens
With amethyst, amber, and vermilion splendours.

Yet it is also thou

Who teachest the stern grammar of endurance,
Who revealest how fragile comfort is,
And how resilient the human spirit may become.

Thus, even in this chamber of shadow and heat,
I find a measure of reverence for thee.

For every season bears a double countenance:

One of pleasure and one of affliction;
One that consoles the heart,
And one that disciplines it.

And when at length
The monsoon's argent legions advance,

With their banners of cloud and thunder,

The earth shall rejoice in cool benediction.

Yet even then thy memory shall remain—
A sublime testament to Nature's paradox,

Terrible in power,
Magnificent in beauty.

O Summer!

I praise thee not because thou art gentle,
But because thou art grand;

Not because thou grantest ease,
But because thou revealest

The majesty and mystery

That dwell within both suffering and joy.