Thick overhead
clouds of the monsoon,
a delight to this feverish heart.
Season of rain,
season of uncontrolled whispers—-the Dark One’s returning!
O swollen heart,
O sky brimming with moisture—-
tongued lightning first
and then thunder,
convulsive spatters of rain
and then wind, chasing the summertime heat.
Mira says: Dark One,
I’ve waited—-
it’s time to take my songs
into the street.
(Mirabai)
More Poetry from Mirabai:
- Torn In Shreds (Mirabai Poems)
- Nothing is really mine except Krishna. (Mirabai Poems)
- Mine is the Lifter of Mountains (Mirabai Poems)
- I will sing the praises of Hari (Mirabai Poems)
- Mine is Gopal (Mirabai Poems)
- Your Slander Is Sweet (Mirabai Poems)