Poem: Under Raucous Skies

Under Raucous Skies,
As the sun dies,
And the night city lights,
Spring to life,

And then with a crash,
And a lightning flash,
The bulbs turn dark,
And the city turns black.

The gods are neigh,
Heaven and earth torn asunder,
As the aether burns with fire and thunder!

Hear their cry, ye mortals,
Hide within thy stony abodes,
As night turns to day for a tick,
With the titter of rain on the roof.

Oh ye wise, watch out,
For the powers of yore are about,
Dancing and mocking the sun,
Bending nor kneeling to anyone,

Sway with the wind,
Light up my face,
And celebrate thunder,
As the sun slumbers.

~Adithyaa~

 

Hello, Sunday!

Last Monday evening was selfsame to most Mondays. I was getting ready for dinner, then the lights flicker and the power dies, a most familiar feeling in India during the monsoon season. About 10 seconds later, a huge wave of wind rushes around and through our house, as if it were succeeding the blackout, as lightning does to thunder. Mayhaps the wind laid a branch upon the local transformer on it’s way here. Rain and lightning soon followed suit, and the city was drenched once more.

There I found myself, at near midnight, with nothing but lightning to illuminate my page as I inscribed this poem with the black ink of the night while in an inspired fervor. Rain gently tinkling around, while lightning tore up the sky in a most mesmerizing fashion. To steep in such moments  is all the artist lives for.

Signing off, and until next time,

Adithyaa~

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