a poem by Drsudarsan Damodar Prasad, India - poetry writer, author, poet

Hail !Oh beautiful Goddess!
Shake your luxuriant locks,
And there will be showers-
Of nectar-drops,
Another name for rain-drops,
For the tillers and the farmers.

I can see the sinister shadow,
Of famine growing –
Like a mountain,
I can hear his sinister laughs-
Behind the hills.

Men reduced to moving skeletons,
Children have no milk-drops
Left in their mother’s –
Shriveled breasts!.
Their eyes luster-less,
And have sunken in deep-pits,
Fathom less pits-
Of poverty and depravity.

Oxen cannot stand,
Breathing fast, they lie quiet-
For the great redeemer-death,
To end their life ,
And misery.

Lo behold!
The sky is lit up-
With the lightning tree,
And against the backdrop -
Of the dark and ominous clouds,
A silvery shining form:
Enchantment crystallized-
Is descending ,
Majestically –riding
A magnificent Lion!

As the incessant rain drops-
Pound the roofs,
And happy and screaming faces,
Shout themselves hoarse,
The rain dance has begun,
The cripple is dancing-
The old have thrown away their staffs,
The cattle have stood up,
The calves are running-
In joy- filled circles.

And I know-
That your grace has arrived,
Not a minute earlier,
Rain drops are now , nectar –drops!

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