Beyond Marrs

This school year I completed a unit called “Monsoons and Mountains”. One of the lessons was to read and listen to Rabindranath Tagore, an Indian poet who wrote a collection of poems about the monsoon. My assignment was to compose a free verse poem about the monsoon. This is what I wrote.

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As I sit

Cross legged in the forest

I sense it first

That scent in the air

That is so familiar

The air turns from hot to cool

I turn my head

Up,

Up,

Towards the heavens themselves

Waiting for that beloved sound

It comes

The

Pitter

Patter

That makes rivulets down my body

Flowing

To the earth

Damp and fragrant

This is a fragile moment

Where the gods themselves

Are weeping

Not out of sadness

But of joy

I smile

As the drops roll down my face

This

Is the Monsoon.