poem

The Song of Hope

The blistering summer wind slaps against my face

As I stand in my third floor balcony,

Sultry air greets me

as I wait for the monsoons

and with them, the smell of rain on parched earth.

 

Well, they arrive- but where is the relief?

Sultriness gives away to humid heat.

Our clothes drenched not just by rain

but by our filthy perspiration.

Where are we?- I ask.

The Inferno raging around answers back.

 

The long summers, only interrupted

By short-lived warm winter;

The all-but-absent spring;

This is where our greeds, lusts, sins

Have brought us.

 

And yet the rains come

And I see the dandelion in the gutter;

So may be the greens will thrive

And light will follow darkness

Just like death and rebirth.

 

I have been pessimistic – always I am,

Save these few moments

That compels me to sing

The song of hope,

Urge me to move on,

For I must move on.

 

Radhika Rathi | PGDM- 2015-17

skhf