Monsoon

 

 

 

I

 

My dark blossom,

last night

I saw you blooming.

Each of your petals

made the moon and stars dim

till they all blotted out.

You were happy, weren’t you?

I heard your timpani laughter.

I know

now all the embers under my feet

will turn into soft grass once more.

I will cease to be a fire-walker.

 

II

 

The dark one

I have been waiting for you

for your fragrant moist touch

on this feverish skin.

You are never a mere flower

but my kohl eyed beauty

Krishnakoli*

who ends all desert days.

I will cup

every drop of mercy

from you

to drink to my fill.

 

 

*Krishnakoli (black-bloom) is a famous song of Tagore. Protagonist is a dark skinned damsel.

 

 

Posted for Sanaa’s prompt: Rain showers my spirit and waters my Soul [16] @ A Dash Of Sunny for her Prompt Nights

&

Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

32 thoughts on “Monsoon

  1. Oh!!! I am practically fainting from delight to read this lush blend of sensuality and mystery. Very beautiful, Sumana.

  2. Love the mythical tone, the dance between an accusation and a prayer, the way the poem sounds as if the speaker is shaking her finger at the subject. And the imagery is pure yumminess.

  3. And it will rain. Soon. I heard that India has a record of high temperature nowadays. Hope you are fine there, Sumana. The longing, the thirst, are very evident here.

  4. this is one of the best Sumana – those lines ‘I will cease to be a fire-walker” convey so well the turning from dust to lush.

  5. Gosh! This is absolutely incredible writing Sumana 😀 love the reference to ” for your fragrant moist touch on this feverish skin.” I took the opportunity and listened to Krishnakoli such a wonderful song by Rabindranath Tagore ❤ Beautifully penned. Thank you so much for participating at Prompt Nights and for your constant love and support 😀

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

  6. Oh yes, I see the mercy dropping not “like the gentle rain from heaven” (Shakespeare), but as dark and full of passion as the first cause, the need for healing, the burning embers. Oh it is a beauty! to be so blessed by darkness and its passing.

  7. I most love that, in hearing her timpani laughter, the ashes will turn to soft grass under your feet once again. And that you will cup every drop of mercy. A truly gorgeous poem, Sumana.

  8. This is one exceptional poem by you, Sumana. It’s accomplished in every way, and a joy to all senses. Outstanding!

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