Sonnet Of Poems-14: The Seasons That Speak Poem by Subhas Chandra Chakra

The seasons have an order-
The way they appear
on the planet, we dwell.

It begins with a season
hot, dry, thirsty
feeding on nectar of hope,
Like the baby
that sucks milk
from the mother's breasts
There is an intense thirst
everywhere, in and around
The soil, the plants,
The animals, the dry air,
Even if the Sun-
None is an exception.
It is the season of thirst,
The season of existence.


Then follows Rainy season
the dark clouds float
the entire sky fills
With jovial passion,
Rains shower like
a lust for life
In every inch of Earth,
In the dust and soil
Of thirsty hearts
and the wanderer souls.
The Rains begin-
A new page,
A new chapter,
In every life.

Then blows the siren
Of cool autumn breeze.
White cloud like cranes
And migrating pelicans
Shattered across the
blue of the sky-
Carry letters of Love
for the lover dwelling abroad.
Romance lingers long
On the cards of hearts
young, fresh and passionate.
The season that renders
myriad songs of love
On the pages of hearts.

Dew Knocks so gently
on the door of the dawn-
The days of passionate waiting
has stepped into the world
Once so elegant and fragrant
Only a few weeks ago.
Tears of pain and pleasure
drop with a mild tinkle
on the soft beds
of the dream that sleeps
like a restless pregnancy.
The days of the Dew
are over with bosoms of
dry earth covered
with heaps of leaves
dry and drenched.

So goes the cycle
Of seasons on Earth
The winter picks its turn.
The world seems so cold
at the end of the day.
Blankets and window panes
Shut the chilly cracks
down the lanes of memory
The hearts wounded
sob their tears
behind the closing curtains.


The spring seldom remains
far behind, the king of
Seasons knocks at the door.
Leaves of green hopes
sprout again, leaving
the old order of World.
The many hued Earth
Sings the myriad songs
of life, each painted
with an unique and elegant
Colour of love,
With a note of perennial
promise, the cuckoo
starts singing
round the clock
from within the grooves.