Hope’s Proclamation
The monsoons have begun with a vengeance. Rain unites earth and sky into a single unbroken piece, broken through with flashes of lightning…like one of those delicate Japanese bowls infused with gold in the cracks. The sound of rain is a constant background noise…the drumming gets into your ears, travels to your bones, reverberates in your brain until limbs slow, thoughts stop and the universe is filled with the sound of rain.
Tip-tap rhythms flow
to soul’s centre, creating
amniotic peace
You peek out of the window. The road has disappeared under the water. You sigh. How will I get to office? you ask the world…no reply. Then you remember the summer droughts, where you ration every drop of water…and you give silent thanks and offer up a prayer Please let this rain fill up the reservoirs.
The rain picks up force…pouring down heavier than ever…lightning dances the rumba while thunder roars its defiance…the world is water. Your prayers are more fervent now Let it not flood. Not again.
Worry slashes peace,
optimism bleeds, tainting
green branches with rot
Suddenly, as if the universe has acceded to your request, the rain slows until it is a gentle patter…like little feet running on a wooden floor. You peek out again. The road is now a river speckled with trash, splashing at the third step of your house. You dance a little dance of glee. The water hasn’t flooded your house, your car is not swimming. This is enough…for today…life is good.
Hope’s faint glimmer blinks
unfatigued — loudly proclaims —
I am Invictus
This haibun is part of the Hands in Haibun collaboration. The prose was written by Indira Reddy. Visit the original post at:
