The summers have stretched far too long. The boiling sun has bleached the sky, burned the earth, and turned the trees a deathly brown. Parched lips murmur quietly, praying to the rain gods, appeasing them with promises of bountiful homage.
But will the rains, when they come, bring the promise of life with them, or a deluge of destruction?
Muddy mess
The thatched straw roof
Is no match
For the thick ropes of water
That are lashing the earth
And huddled in a corner
Cradling his head
Between knotted bony knees
He curses the day
He prayed for rains
Incessantly it pours
Now
The earth is a muddy mess
Jyotsna Atre
This post is a part of the Blogchatter A2Z challenge
A Pocketful of Words 
A deluge or destruction! How wonderfully you have showcased it. I have had such thoughts many times when it pours like cats and dogs.
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One never knows how the prayers will be answered… especially when it comes to the Indian monsoons. The plight of the farmers is real.
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Absolutely agree with you!
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