I sit on the vast field in summer,
AND see people huddled to-gather and murmur,
Once this fertile land,now scorched and crusty,
Waiting for rains to make it cool and misty.
To quench up their thirsts,
Feed those hungry stomachs,
Again allow farmers to plogh their fields,
And fill up cracks developed due to heat and then shield.
A noble sould sits in a cave,
Fasting unto death for a village to save,
Praying for the rains,
Noble dies, but his soul survives.
Rain falls in a trickle,
Tiny droplets of water on faces dribble,
Gathering momemtum by the distant tornado,
Building into a mammoth crescendo.
Villagers,rejoicing,dancing,celebrating,
Their faces brimming with happiness, smiles,
Henceforth, the village is transfomed,
Into a Heaven, not seen by man!
----The End---
Note: The above poem was read at--------
Shah's Farm,
Bhivpuri Road,
Karjat (Maharashtra)
Date & Time: 27th July,2008 at 9.00 a.m.onwards
----The End---
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