The cracked earth hissed at the touch of rain,
dust rose like smoke from the ground.
The musk of loam hang heavy in the air
while heat trapped the breath in our lungs.
Thunder rumbled in the distance
and rattled the walls of our house
The rain that fell through holes in the roof
we tried to catch with our hands.
The culverts made little rivers
we longed to play in the yellow flood
but Mother held us with her glare –
“worms will invade your tummy,” she warned.
Rain would stop and it would be quiet
enough to hear the water fall
from leaf to leaf, and leaf to ground
waking after a long dry spell.
The world would then celebrate
in joyful cacophony
of frogs belting full throated croaks
that drown the birds’ trilling symphony.
Ofttimes, we would see a rainbow.
How excited we’d be at the sight
but we could not point with our finger
lest we incur the ire
of the spiteful rainbow spirit
who deemed finger pointing impolite
though we were told they’d never ever mind
if instead we pointed with our mouth.
Manicdaily wants us to write a slant rhyme for DVERSE’s Meeting the Bar, while Poetry Jam wants a poem about rain. I went back to my childhood in the Philippines for inspiration. The memories brought me some practices that I suppose are utterly Filipino – pointing with the mouth, superstition about using the index finger to point at a rainbow, and my mother’s warning that worms will crawl through our skin if we played in the mud. I do not think that the rainbow superstition had anything to do with our mouth-pointing practice though. I think the latter was born out of convenience. See, we can still give directions even when both our hands are full. How efficient!
Thank you for coming by. Happy Friday night and weekend to you. 🙂 Please visit the links for wonderful poems.