The Summer Rain

The arid air blew once again,

Across the dry, parched earth.

As if whispering to it, in vain,

“Be strong, there should be a firth”.

Now frail and weak, the earth looked up,

With drained and desperate eyes.

“Oh sister, I see there no hope,

The sun shines just as bright”.

“My cracked up soil has deep within

The seeds that were once sowed,

With care and prayers for a generous yield

To fill stomachs of one and more”.

“Today that man, they call Hairya,

Sat gazing at me in despair

His three little children came running to him,

With stomachs empty, feet bare”.

Just then, almost miraculously,

The clouds came roaring around.

A thunderous applause it sounded to be,

As the rain came pouring down.

It cleansed not just the faces there,

It erased their sorrow and pain.

As the earth in all its splendor shone,

To welcome the summer rain.