By Ravi Ranganathan
Can you conjure a famished day of summer
With farmers looking aghast at the skies
Or read despair in that villager’s cursed murmur
When he spots a dry sun with his roving eyes?
Are you strong enough to console his mind
As he grimaces, glancing gloomily at his parched field
Can you puff life into this arid land unkind
That once prospered with a bountiful yield
Are you strong enough to pump a speck of spring
Into the dried up autumn of his stunted hopes
Or tie his dreams with a silvery string
And stir his battered, bruised soul with sugary sops.
Can you ever paint the clouds black to whet his wishful reverie
Or extract sap from the roots of his endless penury?...
By Ravi Ranganathan
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