you unfurl fingers, thicker than rose thorns
striking fear
at our core as you bleed profusely
filling all our cracks
with your wet tongue, pouring your perfume
at our emptiness
you sweep away
dirt in our feet, in our lips
filthy words, the garbage we harbor deep
tear down, not our frail houses
but our bronze monuments
green us
with teeming lake & pink-feathered birds
echo in our ears
the war drums as we keel under the wind's savagery
rain, rain
pouring out from darkness
goddess of life
save us
Picture credit: Here
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Monsoon hosted by Abhra ~ Having grown up in the tropical country where monsoon rains were too much & destroyed much of our land and properties, I wish for some rain, not a lot of it. Thanks for the visit ~
Nice. Your plea is heartfelt, and goes beyond just our cleansing. I particularly like the removing of our statues (our idols / and our heroes) and give us new life. rain can be just like a baptism.
ReplyDeleteOh I love how you write about monsoons.. and you certainly know what it's all about. I think living in country where nothing is either too much or too little, the concept of monsoon is somewhat bewildering.. Love the thicker than the rose thorn..
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed reading that, mesmerizing piece. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThe feel of the rain was palpable in this one. Nice literal take on the prompt. Peace, Linda
ReplyDeleteI can feel this one, Grace.
ReplyDeletetear down, not our frail houses
ReplyDeletebut our bronze monuments...that is my fav part grace - the tearing down of monuments and just what genuine is will stay...
Beautifully and honestly written. I felt the pull of the plea, the desperation for goodness behind it. One of my favorites from you.
ReplyDeletewhat amazing Garce! We need rain, we are in winter and still the rain doesn't arrived!
ReplyDeleteLovely!
Rain is good, but like anything too much is not
ReplyDeleteecho in our ears
ReplyDeletethe war drums as we keel under the wind's savagery
Such vivacious imagery in this beautiful poem.. the raging winds certainly make their presence known during monsoon :D
Lots of love,
Sanaa
So pretty.
ReplyDeleteThicker than rose thorns.. a beautiful description!
ReplyDeleteYou are clearly aware of the tragedy & intensity of rain in our country, Grace. The dirt from our feet to our lips---how hauntingly right you have illustrated that. I have seen many of such scene & it kills me so greatly inside. We can only hope for a better beginnings & a smile despite the pain after every hard rains---just the filipino way. Thanks for the poem, Grace!
ReplyDeleteI would hope the goddess of life would save us and instead our bronze monuments...well said...
ReplyDeleteI believe you are one of the few who has really experienced the reality of a monsoon. I am sure it is not as romantic aa we sometimes make it to be.
ReplyDeleteOh that's quite lovely; so many rich image phrases--wonderful write, Grace.
ReplyDeleteCertainly, rain is best in balance...too little is drought, too much is flood...but just the right amount is a wonderful thing.
ReplyDelete"you unfurl fingers, thicker than rose thorns", that sounds scary. here, monsoon has just come to town and it is very pleasant....
ReplyDelete"echo in our ears
the war drums as we keel under the wind's savagery " suits me more :)
Yes, those who experience monsoon know how long the wait can be and how the buildup can send some mad.
ReplyDeletealmost as a child's song... lovely Grace... awoke the senses
ReplyDeleteThere is some indecision here, but in the end the rain cleanses, despite the thubderous and hard-hitting lines. Well done..
ReplyDeleteException, very deeply felt.... I have faith in the Goddess of life!
ReplyDeleteAngel of rain.. comes clean with ever no ulterior motive.. washing away eyes of dirt.. cleansing earth.. from deserts.. powerful mover.. shaker.. life giver.. taker.. Monsoon Angel and Devil as one.. all natural comes.. in Monsoon change.. Angel and Devil reigns.. as one force Monsoon..:)
ReplyDeleteDear Grace, I read this as a beautiful healing prayer. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI smile when I read your poem, Grace. The monsoon is more wind than rain to me…I can feel the abundance of water, so sensual. Only you can do that…:-)
ReplyDeleteThis is copiously beautiful! :-) I am soaked in the wonder of your poetry. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
If only the rain could truely wash away the garbage we harbor deep. Well said!
ReplyDeleteyes goddess of life indeed filling the emptiness and driving away the filth...here in India monsoon is reviving us from the unbearable summer...beautifully done Grace :)
ReplyDeletegreen us
ReplyDeletewith teeming lake & pink-feathered birds
loved these words...a very deep one....great!!
it's been actually pouring here in socal, muggy - very tropical. rain again looms on the horizon ~
ReplyDelete