The rain has come again
And Ganges rises to meet
Its long forgotten banks.
By the riverside people tremble,
This affair of land and water
Threatens to end their lives.
The muddy water creates ripples
Of its desire
And banks fall in answer.
Their mud dissolves, colours the water.
The river answers a few prayers,
It comes to meet people
In their houses.
They run away,
Afraid of their prayers.
The river follows them
Rippling, dancing, laughing.
Men in cabinet pass bills
And yawn and throw shoes.
‘People are dying’ they say
And some die to prove the point.
The river recedes after the union,
After it has consummated with the banks.
And her offspring cry and laugh;
Broken houses, floating bodies,
Lost livelihoods and found nothings.
New reports are filed,
New plans are made
And paper fulfills its destiny.
Next year she will come again,
The Terrible Goddess;
Worshipped and loved,
She will strike fear and then play.
She will run and sprint,
Laugh and roar, break and tilt.
But the people won’t care,
They’ll run away
Only to come back again.
A true story in the poem. I lived in the tropica area of the world. Heat, rain and cold. The three deadly gifts of the Goddess. Thank you for sharing the amazng poetry.
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Thanks John! Happy you stopped by. Your words are elevating.
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You are welcome.
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