A Sprout For A New Season
the drought dries the land
there is no rain coming yet
the grasses wilted
and the soil turns to dust
the winds are blowing
sadly
somehow the miracle comes
with running water
along the dikes of hope
and then the first seed of grass
sprouts
its bud looks around
gives a smile
to the cloud
and then sings the beginning
of a new season
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Soil Is A Soul Of Life
Soil what is soil Lord?
soil is life seed
soil is a living organism
soil is a loom
from which you were made
dust you were dust you will be
Soil what is soil Scientist?
soil is a critical
part
of an ecosystem
soil provides
important nutrients
for plants in
an ecosystem
soil helps
anchor
plants
to keep
plants
in place
soil absorbs
holds water
for plants
soil absorbs
holds water
for animals
lakes rivers
to use
soil provides
a home
for many species
lots of living
organisms
soil
regenerates life
dust you were dust you will be
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Modern Day Miracle
Where could you find an example
of true faith in the twentieth century?
‘Faith Like Potatoes’ to plant
in El Nino, in drought, in dust
a never grown before potato crop?
Angus Buchan, a farmer, in Durban
South Africa declared before 35,000
“To hell with El Nino! We are going
to plant this year! And we are going
to plant potatoes.” Fool or Man of Faith?
The Wisdom Of The Modern World
Scientists warned farmers not to plant!
“Do not plant this season unless
you have irrigation.” Angus had none!
Planting planting potatoes in dust
would be a massive massive risk!
It would require a miracle!
Did Angus expect a miracle?
Or was he an experienced potato farmer?
Angus was a maize and cattle farmer!
He had never grown potatoes!
No farmer could grow potatoes in drought!
Not in drought without irrigation!
But all farmers and men of faith
know a crop, a harvest is grown,
from a seed, a seed of planted faith.
Angus prayed and prayed
during the planting and he knew;
in his heart that the Lord;
wanted him to plant potatoes.
Angus expected a modern day miracle from God!
God has complained men lack faith!
To dream their dreams large enough!
Angus planted potatoes in dust on his farm in drought!
Without irrigation without water on his farm in faith!
Angus hired two extra farms, planted potatoes in their dust!
If the potato crop failed, Angus would loose everything!
“Faith is the substance of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not yet seen.” Hebrews 11: 1.
Potatoes grow under the ground
and are not seen until the harvest!
Angus planted in faith; reaped a miracle of faith!
“because the righteous one will live by reason of faith.” Galatians 3: 11.
“The condition for a miracle is difficulty,
however the condition for a great miracle
is not difficulty, but impossibility.” Angus Buchan
“Seek and you shall find knock
and the door shall be opened to you.”
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Salvation 2009
A darkling sky of black and grey.
Was brooding angrily above,
below the land in silence lay.
Where nothing stirred afraid to move.
Wild creatures I their wisdom hide.
Instinctively they know its best
To find safe havens and abide
before the coming storm can test.
Then suddenly the sky is rent
The rain pours down a fierce torrent.
The promised storm long overdue..
The thirsty earth drinks greedily
The dusty dried up river beds
Receive the water gratefully
And lace the plain with silver threads.
The drought has broken finally.
New grass will soon be flourishing
from seeds that have lain dormantly
In patience for their christening.
But now the seed have been baptised
by rain fresh fallen from the sky
Their need for moisture satisfied.
Their speed of growth is no surprise.
The drought consigned to history
We can afford to hope again.
Returning to normality
our thanks are due for prayed for rain.
9-Mar-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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True Love
True Love spoke in her beauty
to the harlot of a cheaper, boastful love.
Who felt superior in youthful abundance.
Your love is like the leaves on the tree
that wither and fall in Autumn,
my love is the whole tree.
Your love is like the rain
that falls from black cloud heights,
my love is the sea, from which rain was born.
Your love is like a dew dropp
sparkling on a blade of grass
at dawn of newborn day.
My love is each elfin droplet
in the rainbow, as the sun bursts
upon it, beginning
a golden summer morning.
Your love lost is like a drought
in a harsh season
winter rains restore moisture
to scorched parched land.
True love lost is ever
a broken wasteland
poor worthless soil
destitute devoid of life’s magic.
Each has its place
for not all may pay the price
each contains its strife
woven into the hectic pace of life.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Miracle Fair
Commonplace miracle:
that so many commonplace miracles happen.
An ordinary miracle:
in the dead of night
the barking of invisible dogs.
One miracle out of many:
a small, airy cloud
yet it can block a large and heavy moon.
Several miracles in one:
an alder tree reflected in the water,
and that it's backwards left to right
and that it grows there, crown down
and never reaches the bottom,
even though the water is shallow.
An everyday miracle:
winds weak to moderate
turning gusty in storms.
First among equal miracles:
cows are cows.
Second to none:
just this orchard
from just that seed.
A miracle without a cape and top hat:
scattering white doves.
A miracle, for what else could you call it:
today the sun rose at three-fourteen
and will set at eight-o-one.
A miracle, less surprising than it should be:
even though the hand has fewer than six fingers,
it still has more than four.
A miracle, just take a look around:
the world is everywhere.
An additional miracle, as everything is additional:
the unthinkable
is thinkable.
poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Monsoon Woes II
Nothing to set
Summer apart
Fading monsoon dreams!
Scorching sun
Dripping sweat
Awaiting rain!
Sterile cloud
Pricking heat
Rain holiday!
Reptiles crawling
Spewing hot venom
Respite sought!
Hot vapours rose
Still thirsty, sun gulped rain
Humid heat returns!
Drought gets sprinkled
Like arid seeds and dust
Darkness around eyes!
Sun stomps
Grass seed bud and beetle
Mud cakes'dirge!
Baked earth
Dry eyes
Silent mourning!
Clouds collide
Empty vessels cling clang
Wrinkled earth, lost!
Dust in the eyes
Dust in the ears
Dust in the hands!
Storms do rise
Not on the sea
Of dust on earth!
From cracks of earth
Crawl reptiles upwards
For cool respite!
Yesterday's dead dog
Lies baked and stiff
None to care!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Poverty's Grass
Arrogance said
We eat Poverty's grass
As Mockery fed
Biased high class
Now the famine
The Suicide breed
Pride is the sin
Destroyed your seed
We may eat grass
But you eat the soil
Your words are brass
And now you recoil
Grass tastes better
That you must know
But Death is the bitter
Seed that you grow
Dried and barren
Your land had become
Our grass can be eaten -
Do you want some?
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Heavy Water
I walked out in the city night,
A burning in my eyes, like it was broad daylight.
And it was hot, down there in the crowd.
The stars went out behind a thunder cloud.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and its hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now theyre pouring
Heavy water on me.
She was a southern girl. we stared man to man.
I move like a stranger in this strange land.
She was a round hole, I was a square peg.
I watched the little black specks running down her leg.
Didnt seem to mind that dirty rain coming down ---
Shirt hanging open. she was wet and brown.
Thumping in my heart, and its hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now theyre pouring
Heavy water on me.
What goes up has to fall back down.
Its no night to be out dancing in a party town
When it runs hot and it runs so wide ---
Running in the street like a thin black tide.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and its hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now theyre pouring
Heavy water on me.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Foreseeing
the time has come
for the wilting of the flowers
the drought
the drying up of our rivers
the proliferation of dust
the death of a friend
the season for funerals
as we pretend day by day
that everything is still all right
that poetry still works
we have foreseen all these
i am prepared
like a fish hibernating
inside a cracking mud
i have foreseen
too the coming
of another beginning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blissful Queen
Blissful queen
Magazine
Making art
Stuck between
Limosines
Break my heart
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
Blissful queen
Sweet sixteen
Brand new car
Hit machine
Keep her clean
Razor sharp
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
Blissful queen
Velveteen
Shining star
Glistening
Wedding ring
Gone too far
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming...
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Wilted Flower
Your waking dreams
I hear your screams
Of the hour
My wilted flower
All alone
Can’t go home
You must cower
My wilted flower
So much pain
Standing in the rain
You are not of power
My wilted flower
You run away
And there you stay
In the cold rain shower
My wilted flower
Memories of all the hate
Your horrible fate
They no longer tower
My wilted flower
In peace you die
I mustn’t cry
Your last hour
My wilted flower
~2009~
poem by Jennifer Cramer
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It Was Raining Every Night
Spatter scraping oblique lines
in the dark of night thick curtains
The lines are sharper
Chills dipped to earth
Since the skin was peeling off his skin soil crust
due to prolonged dry heat
soil crust full of pus
Peeling due to heat
exposed to rain water droplets
without stopping,
overnight.
While dozens of coconut-leaf penjor
In the aisles, wilted down listless
young couples kissed my cheek
ask for intercession
while in the corner of the building party
spinster, shredding wishful anganya
With sword swords reality
held tightly in his right hand
At the top of his age,
When it fell on the edge of the lips Kabah
As I asked in prayer,
Is this the end of all trips
Dreams
At the edges, relentless
She was crying in the rain first remarks
When he moved into the realm of real
From the dreams that had long
He pujas, in the struggle of desire
current drought
He cries and notes, this first rain
The first date in the year 1434 Hijri
The men were passing in front of the door
Go away, no matter
With every season,
And all the struggles that have passed
In the years hijrah or BC
Bah, what did she care
With a record of it.
I'm hungry,
Not to breakfast,
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Rain On The Window
Round about midnight
I feel the chill closin in
Living my stage fright
I need the sun to begin - tomorrow
Thinking bout my life
And all the changes she made
And when she went running out
All the colors fade - to midnight
What a bad week Ive had
Theres rain on the window
What a bad week Im sad
Theres rain on my window
Will I be staying
Or am I moving in
Am I still standing
Ive gotta wait - shes choosing
* what a bad week Ive had
Theres rain on the window
What a bad week Im sad
Theres rain on the window
When the sun comes up
It dries that rain on the window
When the sun comes up
It dries that rain on the window
When the sun comes up
It dries that rain on the window
Repeat *
(written and arranged by nazareth)
Copyright 1983 fool circle limited
All rights reserved.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Purer Than Pure Gold
O brother, purer than pure gold
Is the soil of my land.
Her soil and water
Her fruits and flowers
Quench our thirst and hunger.
as we drink from her milk-pot
To have the blessings of this Mother
Taking leftovers from her temples
Pilgrims are gratified, coming from various castes.
O brother prostrating on the dust of this land
Jewels fall down and welter,
O brother slumber of all in the world
Is broken by the touch of her magic stick.
Coating this soil and this mud
Learning from this land's good conduct
the whole world became civilized all the way
O brother this ascetic in every land
Put on the light out of love,
Mother wakes up alone through the dark night
Watching from the post of crematorium.
poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam
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The Rain that Came to Stay
‘How much longer this drought, ' he said,
‘The creeks are running dry,
There's not a lot in the reservoir
And not a cloud in the sky,
The farmers, shooting the cattle that
Have nothing out there to drink,
How much longer this drought, ' he cried
In the pub at Innaminck!
The soil had turned to a fine bulldust,
The drought had cracked the clay,
There wasn't a green shoot anywhere
To be seen by the light of day,
The crops had failed, were ploughed back in
In hopes that the rain would come,
But the skies were clear for the rest of the year
From there to Jerusalem!
A tinker called in a beat-up car
And staggered in with his bag,
‘I'm Mickey Malone from County Down
With a thirst that could choke a shag! '
The barman served him a schooner, with
One gulp, he put it away,
But emptied his empty pockets when
The barman asked him to pay.
The tinker started his blarney then,
‘I'll sharpen your knives for free!
Just give me another schooner, chum
And we'll see what we will see!
I'll cut your keys, and I'll wash a dish,
Or I'll give you a hundred pegs.'
The barman reached and he grabbed his throat,
And lifted him off his legs!
‘You'll have to do better than that, my man,
Don't drink my beer for free!
I'm taking the wheels of your beat-up car
‘Til you play it straight with me! '
‘Hang on, hang on, just what do you want,
Whatever will pay my due! '
‘We could do with a shower of rain, my man,
But that's all I'd want from you! '
The tinker nodded, ‘No sooner said!
I'll make it tomorrow noon,
You'll have to give me a room to rent
And I'll whip it up in the gloom.'
The barman sneered, ‘You're having me on,
No way can you make it rain! '
‘You'll see, tomorrow, ' the tinker said,
‘Though you might think I'm insane! '
The barman locked him and his bag in a room,
And took a wheel off his car,
He knew if the tinker tried to escape
He wouldn't be going far,
But come the dawn, was a distant cloud
Spread out, and up from the south,
It tumbled and turned in the atmosphere
And looked like a dragon's mouth.
At noon the cloud was over their heads,
All black, and threatening rain,
A whirly blew up a dust storm there
And swirled at each window pane,
They locked the door of the pub up tight
And waited, tense as a rag,
The rain came down, ‘Aha, ' he said,
And the tinker patted his bag!
The patter of rain was heard on the roof,
The gutters began to fill,
The windows washed of their dust and silt
Right down to the window-sill,
The dust was settled, the ground was wet,
The cattle lowed in the field,
And everyone danced in the yard out there
The tide of their fortunes sealed.
The rain grew heavier by the hour,
The creeks had started to flow,
And even the reservoir burst its banks,
With nowhere else to go,
The water flooded across the plain
They waded up to their knees,
‘Enough, enough! ' But Malone replied:
‘Begorra, you're hard to please! '
It rained all night, and the following day,
It rained and rained for a week,
The pub was flooded from wall to wall
The water burst from the creek,
‘You've got to stop it, ' the barman cried,
But the tinker stood and frowned,
‘If the water rises much higher than this,
I think that we'll all be drowned! '
‘You said you wanted the rain, all right,
I gave it, now for my pay,
I can't go on in these tattered clothes
And my car's a give-away.
I'll need the van that you've parked out front
And a hundred cans of beer,
Not much to ask for your water, chum,
At the drought time of the year! '
The barman collared and kicked him out
With his bag and all beside,
The tinker lay in the water there,
His bag had sunk in the tide,
‘Will you stop it now, ' the barman said,
‘Or you'll wish you'd never been born! '
I can't! ' The tinker sat and he cried,
‘You've drowned my Leprechaun! '
It rains and rains at Innaminck,
It rains both day and night,
The pub sank under the water there
In a lake that's ten miles wide,
The farmers had to desert the land
To leave their sunken homes,
But put out a ‘Wanted', Nation wide
For a tinker, called Malone!
David Lewis Paget
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Why? In loneliness we keep doing things
like lima beans,
loneliness ripens and from its pods
things begin to drop
soundlessly on top of the grass
the season change
and the pods rot and the beans dry in the sun
and gets wet in the rain
and then something sprouts again
another form of lonely lima beans
grow on the soil
loneliness begets loneliness
and forever keeps the cycle
the world knows this
in fact, it is this that keeps it going.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Raise My Head
i raise my head towards the heavy rain
strong seeds of water
hitting my eyes
like i am the cracking earth
thirsty of the
season
the seeds stay inside my
eyelids
my heart and sprouts to
become
the trees of my life
i am not afraid if i cannot
move anymore
with roots coming out
from my feet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh Rain Come Agian
Oh rain, oh rain, oh rain
Come again, come again
We are scorching in the summer
Come with sudden thunder
Don't just drizzle
Little and little
But come and pour
Plenty of water
The land is dry
Animals are making cry
Temperature crossed forty five
Bees are coming out of their hive
Without water land is hell
Plants have turned pale
Oh rain. Oh rain
Come again, come again
To turn landscape green
As it ever had been
Oh rain, por water
To make earth greener
More healthier and richer
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Dry Lips
With dry, from the drought, lips
I drink a little water
And it makes my body strong
And the drought goes away
Water from a clean spring
Turns into a river
Which slakes my thirst
And flows on earth-
Wild, dark and withered
And changes it so
That love and light come up
Water from a clean spring
With dry, from the drought, lips
I drink a little water
And it makes my body strong
And the drought goes away
poem by Yavor Kostov
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A Heritage Of Aussie Drought
Henry Lawson
was indeed a joy to read,
when studying Aussie lit,
he's so well writ
the rain is falling hard here,
season tropical Indonesian rain,
the scanned lines are fine
Lawson's writing succinct plain
Our Andy's gone to battle now
‘Gainst Drought, the red marauder; ’
but Australian Soil,
is still losing the battle,
to erosion drought
hard hoofed animals
like cattle sheep goats
horses donkeys pigs
but water buffalo camels?
and foxes cats rabbits?
over grazing combined
with cyclic natural drought
and feral invasive species
all have specific consequences
feral animals typically
have few natural predators
may carry fatal diseases
have high reproductive rates
a rabbit proof fence was
a kinda neat costly solution
i am no scientist but i'll tell you what i think
feral animals eat vegetation
which exposes fine soils
to wind and water erosion
cats kill birds, so what, you say?
cats destroy necessary birds
whose droppings carry seeds
that grows renews vegetation
with less birds there is less vegetation
without vegetation the soil is exposed
to wind rain and hard hoofed erosion
raising salinity high water table still to beat
maybe satellite grazing is the answer sport?
drought still haunts Australia still,
but Andy's spirit was never beat,
now scientific Australia must beat,
the drought before its got us beat!
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem was written after reading the poem Andy's Gone With Cattle by Henry Lawson, an Australian colonial writer and poet, who is often referred to as Australia's greatest writer. Having taught causes of Australian soil erosion, the temptation to mix the two was irresistible.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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