The water soaked into the earth, cooling its parched throat,
dripping through the crooked cracks and pooling in the
deep, dry depths of the soil which drank it like a sot.
The clouds hovered nearer and more rain poured down,
filling the rivers, the holes and still more and some more.
The people watched it rise, unbelieving the speed; and
fear driven creatures and humans ran to the hills.
Even there, the water came running in rivulets, streams
and then in full flood and washed away the living and
the dead into the mud streaked death trap of a deluge
of biblical proportions, but no one had an strong ark
and so eyes bleared by tears and sleeplessness saw
their lives taken by a maelstrom and eaten in moments.
Still the creatures ran and tried to swim away from the
gaping jaws of the flooding monsoon as it ground away
the earth, trees n villages disappeared as quickly as the
torrents could engulf them. Soon the small, shivering
children’s screamed, their fears and terrors lost in the
roar of the the angry, rushing, inundating cascade.
Quiet now, dripping water, sluggish streams still carry
the carnage of its crippling attack on the communities
and a contemplating mood comes on those left living
the nightmare of hunger, fear and the black clouds
that are boiling over the horizon and darkening their
already black nightmare as they cozen rare resources
and wait, eyes dulled, voices muffled for the sounds
of rescue which does not come and their worries
are threatening to overwhelm and depressing their
energy and they sleep fitfully, empty bellies rumbling,
and mothers holding babies, try to feed them from
empty breasts and fathers search for food in the mud.
Voices are heard and the press has found them, some
chocolate bars to throw over the washout and a word
that they are a few of millions who are in crisis. How
can they be rescued? How can they have hope? How
will they work together to leave their place and enter
the unknown, penniless, grieving, hungry and homeless?