Africa Africa, Poetry and Love art inspiration Nature nature poems

Poem: Hear The Clouds

The Clouds are Angry

Dear friends, as I write this, it’s raining cats and dogs out there and goodness, the cloud is very angry. Have you read the tale of the angry cloud who flooded the earth, whom he accused of stealing his wife? If you haven’t, don’t worry. I’ll tell you about it another time.

So I’ve spent a long time searching for the right word to describe the cloud’s mood today. There are many words in my mind and I can’t seem to find the right fit yet. Here are some of the words – rumbling, humming, trumpeting, thundering, clapping, cracking, barking… Well, the short video below will reveal to my readers the cloud’s mood.

Rainy Season: No Problem

That’s right, it’s rainy season – a period of abundant rainfall, typically lasting for several months. This season starts somewhere between late February or early March and continues till the end of October or early November. That’s a reasonable amount of rainy months! Note that even during the rainy season, it might not rain for days or weeks.

In West Africa, the two major seasons; the rainy and dry seasons have their peculiarities. Though each season serves its purposes well, extreme weather conditions can cause cold, drought, dry skin, etc, which makes people wish them away. The funny thing is when we wish the rains away and it stops falling, we miss it and pray that it returns to help with the scorching sun. Vice versa.

It’s fascinating to watch and hear Mother Nature do her thing. I uploaded a short video along with this blog. The video is an impression of the soft drizzling rain and loud cloud. J. Okon, a friend, on seeing the video remarked: “That [the] sound [is] suitable for meditation“.

I love to share this wonderful poem as well. Please have fun and a decent night from Africa.

Hear The Clouds ☁️

And there this surge of rain on the window side
Steered by a burst of very cold wind
Which ate deep into the flesh of people
And caught rooftops in the crossfire
Between the cold wind and torrential rain
There is no ceasefire, no peace, and no victor
But calm disaster, one conditioned to people

The clouds heavy stomach roared above
And what big stomach she has
For a stretch of the earth –
Marveled with her rumblings!
And each time, she sent
A strong spray of rain upon the boring dirt,
Pursued by a gush of light but a cold wind

Now the day is far spent without the sun
For she slipped away from the gentle morn,
Leaving a shivering, dark, and sleepy noon
So this is the day’s tale, made by the cloud & rain
Fed by a dual dilemma with the cold wind

The rain fades,
Fading and rising,
The wind is thrilled,
Fleeing without a notice

I assume that the sun won’t rise again today


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