(Photo of Thriveni C. Mysore)


FarmerŐs Prayer


Seasons – passing Phantoms

before my eyes,

mixed up – overlapping enough

to confuse my budding crops.

Like my forefathers

I tried to follow the

pattern, hoped just to

keep their sense and

change the air, water, dry soil,

but, it happened other way.

Five years have

struggled by without rain,

dried field, dried up wells

my oxen, cows showing

their rib-cage,

All hopes for good days

vanished from my mind.

Days seem long when spent

in idleness or grief.

my heart aches at every dry day-break.

When I walk miles to gather a pitcher of water, I Pray,

sensibly for some rain, but unheard goes the prayer, for

He speaks in different language.


© Thriveni C. Mysore


Author's Note:  This poem was previously published in the '#final poem' section in Enclave http://enclave.entropymag.org/finalpoem-from-thriveni-c-mysore/.  We have been farmers in Karnataka for five generations. I wish to see that my poem reaches out to more readers [to raise awareness about the current severe drought in Karnataka].