Drop of life

 The ghostly figures wait
 A skeleton canopy
The birds have left long ago
The stream is a sandy bed
where a discarded snake skin gleams
a reminder that life has slithered on
leaving imprints in the dust
Trees stands bemused caught in a maelstrom
of swirling hot air currents
leaves have fallen off without any storm
A brown carpet hides a raging thirst
Pleading branches shorn of any splendour
try to reach out to a passing cloud
that wanders lost in the barren sky
-a lone traveller with a thirst of its own
it carries the pictures of the barren earth
to the mountains where the rain god sleeps
forgetting to water his potless trees
wake him up, ‘o’ cloud
for there waits a seed
in the throes of heat
for a drop of water
to welcome life.

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