Raindrops
Droplets of water falling on my head
Heavens opening up releasing sans partiality
The ambrosia from above, uniformly!
Parched earth drinking greedily again n again
While unable to absorb dense concrete pavements
Dispatch these raindrops unceremoniously
Marching them in the formation of tiny
Rivulets losing their identity
Down the drains.
Where drains have stuffed mouths
There is flooding and sloshing
Meanwhile moving cars scare up muddy spurts
Spraying on the unwary passersby
Who disdainfully brush it off
All in a day’s work.
In gardens and yards, there is sudden rejuvenation
Feathered twitter, flowers n leaves all perk up
Blooming gleefully in celebration
Partaking of this manna, a windfall much welcomed
The frogs as well are all in high gear and
Leap riveting and riveted
Nests are again inhabited by birds who earlier
Were cowering, hiding in deference to the raindrops
Falling on the head
Even the squirrels all hurry off
Hither n thither away from the wet
House pets too slink indoors
Overhead wires and cables
Become stringed pearls
Fit for royalty
Sunlight touches these drops transforming them
Into balls of fire exuding myriad colors
Pleasing the eye.
Shingled roof tops become wet and shiny
Houses after the wash become squeaky clean
Dust-free and inviting purified air
A gift of the raindrops
Provides a jumpstart to life
And all around there is a quiet sense of happiness.
“Criticism, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man’s growth
without destroying his roots.” -Frank A. Clark
Originally Published: September 20, 2001
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The Enemy
I want to find him…
Is he within or
Is he without?
Is he white
Is he black
Is he brown or
Is he yellow?
Is he here
Is he there
Is he yonder
Is he across the ocean
Is he across the desert or
Is he across the mountain?
Is he in the air
Is he on the ground
Is he underground?
Seek him I shall
No place is too far
No place is too hard
No place too dangerous!
I have the nerve
I have the grit
I have the means
And seek him I shall
Such is my covenant!
Today the discredit of words is very great. Most of the time the media transmit lies.
In the face of an intolerable world, words appear to change very little. State
power has become congenitally deaf, which is why –but the editorialists forget it
–terrorists are reduced to bombs and hijacking.
John Berger
1926-, British Actor, Critic
Originally Published: September 14, 2001
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Grandma
My grandma is
an oasis
a shady oak
a delicious chocolate cake
a delightful prankster
a curmudgeon
the head honcho
the clan leader
the arbitrator
beautiful inside out
does not suffer fools gladly
and I love her!
The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is that they have a common enemy.
Sam Levenson
(1911 – 1980)
Originally Published: September 9, 2001
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Mom
Your love was boundless
As a helpless baby
You nurtured me
You taught me to
Walk
Talk
And to manage myself
Each time I faltered
You were there to hold me
Your lifeline held out
In times of need
You rejuvenated
My faith in me
You were in retrospect
A personification of love
When in doubt
Of my self-worth
Regardless of my displeasure
You were critical and honest
When necessary
You did not pander
To all my outrageousness
Your good sense kept me
From making an utter fool
Of my self always
You did not disparage
When I made mistakes
But encouraged me to continue
Today my tenacity, grit n success
Are all your everlasting gifts
You infused doses of oxygen n
Life-saving blood constantly
Today I can proudly say
That I am doubly blessed to have
you as my mother and vouch to
carry on your legacy faithfully.
The mother’s heart is the child’s schoolroom.-Henry Ward Beecher
1813-1887, American Preacher, Orator, Writer
Originally Published: September 9, 2001
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Sister
We are alike…
In so much
As we share
The same genes
The same features
The same race
The same food predilections.
We are unalike…..
Where you are tall n shapely
I am short and stubby
Where you are confident
I am doubtful
Where you are successful
I am struggling
Where you are questioning
I am trusting
Where you are fearless
I am fearful
Where you go for the jugular
I falter always
My killer instinct
Does not exist
Today you are
The epitome
Of Beauty and fame
Yet you are
Always on your toes!
Always followed by
People ready to pull
You down the ladder!
I am still
Struggling
Making ends meet
Surrounded by
Loving friends
As I am their part and parcel
With shared laughter and tears
Shared dreams
Shattered and shattering!
Shared worries some over
Some to be dealt with
Yet I am happy
And at peace.
“Sibling relationships outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship. They flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust.”
– Erica E. Goode
Originally Published: September 9, 2001
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