rain on the sea

my wife's busy in the godown
dispatching coolies
with their share of the harvest
we're down 22 sacks of rice
from last year

summer went on
a rampage
picked winter's pockets dry

lying under the banyan tree
for a brief reprieve
I catch the moon
sneer through the branches
guilty like a culprit behind bars
maybe it's god's pale eye

a sudden draft
makes my six year-old son
roll over to my side
and cuddle up

I run my fingers along
the diamonds
carved on his back
by the tightly woven rope cot

how secure he sleeps
his face a pleasant
glow of comfort
not knowing his dad
had to dip into his
future to light
the coolies' stoves today

the wind summons its fist
and slams
the verandah windows

from the floor the radio
warns of ceaseless rains
and floods up north

soon. . .
a state of emergency
will be declared
up there
blankets will be issued
schools will be closed
ministers will fly
overhead in helicopters
to inspect the damage

. . .down south
everything goes
as usual
the earth scabs
like tamarind bark

the neighboring state
sits on its water reserves
for an imagined future drought
or as a taunting strategy for
gaining political muscle

while our village temples
fill with women and hopes
more fathers will eke out
tears in the quiet of the night

and the blessed clouds
will keep streaming by
rushing north
to mete out more rain
on the sea