Hope in Pandemic

By Geetha Ravichandran

A Prayer

What can you say
to a dear friend
who is fighting for life,
gasping for breath?

Open your eyes-
the tender
mango leaves,
have begun to sprout.
There’s a ruckus outside 
the window, the babblers
you watched over daily,
are scrambling for grain.
Let the love
your gurgling laughter
spread, the faith 
that kept you busy
on cold nights,
the beauty of your 
giving freely,
gather --
to weave a magic blanket
to protect and heal you.


Every cloud holds a story,
in its nameless form
and its formless cape.
One edges out the sun,
jutting on its way
and dabs its cheeks
with pink splotches.
Another blazes a trail,
of gold dust and flushes
in borrowed beauty 
for half-a-second.
One stands like an anime,
poised for eternity. 
There’s an in-between god,
who rides a tiger
and pours rain callously
on a cold, feverish city.
The posthumous rain
will splash on, till
the burning fever wrath
evaporates like a dream,
when the folds of the cloud
unfurl and let 
the clear sky be.

Geetha Ravichandran lives in Mumbai. When she is not working, she watches the sky and the sea.  In the past year, her poems have been published in Borderless, Setumag and included in a couple of anthologies published by Hawakal.

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