A Reverse Apocalypse
Natalidita Ningthoukhongjam *
It was a wasteland, barren and parched; for a million years,
It was a wasteland, its worn grinding a deafening protest.
In its cracked earth, there grew browning cacti, and many
A shapeless gloom that often screeched in the long nights.
For a million years, it churned into itself, a hapless trance
In solid form. I waited for the inevitable implosion; I knew
There would be one.
But there was a great sigh from the sky, and along came the
Thunderous clouds, and it was drowning in the rain which
It had forgotten how to wait for. It poured for days, months,
Eons, till every crack was now where rivulets ran. I waited for
The inevitable deluge; I knew there would be one.
Almost a slap on my face, summer sprang, bursting with all
Its might. The pregnant earth of a million years had delivered at last.
I fell to my knees, crying aloud in wonder: What miracle was this?
* Poem written by Natalidita Ningthoukhongjam who can be contacted at natalie(dot)nk85(at)gmail(dot)com
This poem was webcasted on May 01 2012.
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