Puddles and harvest
The rain falls down,
A gentle call,
Water seeks lanes and yards,
Since the rills,and drains,
And local ponds vanished.
On the roads,
Passing cars splash water,
Dirty on paddlers' clothes,
As they leap high
To avoid the mess.
They jump again and again
Through the potholes,
Dodging the distress.
If rain lingers long
Water flows, a streaming throng,
Covering the roads.
Let's bear this all,
For in nature's plan,
Without rain's grace
Rice production would fail .
Cherish each drop,
For in every storm and puddle
Lies promise of harvest.
Copyright © Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh | Year Posted 2025
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