The face of the Earth is crunched,
wrinkled in furrows
burrows, like mouths are widely open
towards the sky with prayer for dull clouds.
Bodies of trees are broken and bowed.
leafs curled in sears, in the color of hell.
Some of animals can be seen
soulless, crouching on their celebrity red carpets
dreaming of rain.
It’s time for a raingirl.
You will recognize her as a young maid,
dressed in rugs, with wreath around her head
adorned with wheat, flowers and grass.
Barefoot she would walk across the village,
her long hair trotting after her. She dances
and sings dow-down-la, dow-down-la while
milking her heavenly cows.
An orphan, as such adored among hearths.
Sometimes she would fly over woods and fields,
to awaken blossoms and green parchments,
as messaged by the God of Thunder.
As first drops appear, tree hands, grass blades, uprooted sinews
unroll their palms, tongues,
tired of summer soberness
in hope to imbibe a little bit of milk.
Raingirl smiles and as she suddenly appeared
in same fashion she evanesces in the mist
with her downy flock.
When we will see a raingirl again?
Once the Sun becomes this angry, heavy. In pain.
So, I’m totally excited…the poem today is a wonderful contribution from Maya Tod @ Minipoet written for the Slavic goddess of rain. I have to apologize to her for not posting this sooner, but I was sans laptop for a while (it died) and on vacation from work (so no computer on that front either).
Also, going with the Slavic rain goddess theme, I happened upon these clips from the dodole, a rain-making ritual, a while back (when I did a post on water on my regular blog) and have been waiting for a good opportunity to use them.