Kaal Boishakhi

 Kaal boishakhi

( kaal boishakhi roughly translates into death in the midsummer. Like all deaths , it brings rejuvenation and fresh life in its wake)
The tree pie has had enough
The farmer holds his plough
Tired , he wipes his brow
Tree pie  has spoken, no fear bro

The rains are  here
Don't fret or fear
I can very much hear
Beyond the molten fire

The sky shimmering
The cricket singing
It's age old monsoon song
The forest is still and strong

A power burst is on the way
The skies darken , gray
Within seconds , grayer
Fearsome black  layer

Blots  out the sun
That yellow villain
It has caused so much burn
Now it's time for wind churn

The forest summoned
The clouds respond
The tree tops dip ,sway
Maddened , every which way

The wind , alive, mad thing
Blundering , twisting, turning
At your windows , howling
Lifting dirt , upward spiralling

The skies hesitate for effect
One split second, perfect
The skies are split , deafening roar
Dark  pelt rent asunder ,

Crackle , hiss and terrible flash
In neon , whole gray world awash
Drops begin naively , benign rash
Innocent and gay , first splash

Of dirt mushrooms
Then the vrooms
Suddenly the downpour
Blinding , drunken power

Oh the rain . The puddles
The rivulets , the bubbles
The earth takes a beating
No longer hissing or steaming

It is a "Wall of water "
Wrote a foreign author
Yeah . We don't do in halves
We believe in excesses .