A poem - on Hope

The Earth lies baked - in Summer,
Bereft, Desolate, unadorned,
Yet harbors a Hope - a promise,
Delicate, gentle, and tender!

She lies in wait - patient,
Uncomplaining - as is her wont,
Wind-slapped, torched, burnt...
But waiting for the first shower.

After the first showers,

The hot summers recede,

And Hope sprouts from the ground,

And the mother's children soonest do rise.

Likewise - should we - in adversity, 

Learn from the Mother,

For soon the turn will come,

Of opportunity and action!

~ Girish Shahapurkar