Poem: The Day of the Storm December 4, 2023

What a storm it has been. Cyclone Michaung is about to land north of Chennai, where I live. This is a poetic rundown of my day that I will remember forever. Little stanzas tell the story of a long day of rain and winds.

Poem: The Day of the Storm

Picture Courtesy: M9 News

The little innocent drizzle
Innocent puddles
For little children

Today’s marvel
The roving eyes from space
Diagnose Nature’s health

Depression turns disturbance
The insanity visibly forming
A whirlpool of fluffy foams

Beasts, birds and humans
Fishermen far out in the sea
Rush home to safety

Nature’s seasonal wrath
a destructive dance of divine
a violent benevolence of bounty

Monsoon mayhem
The TV host shouts
Quieter texts for peace.

Then — it starts
The incessant anger in the rains
almost like a pushy rant

The squalls came in waves
shooting wet, sharp arrows
who is angry with earth?

The humdrum of the wind
sometimes a whine
then an angry hiss and a growl

Grey, dark, wet and angry
No drumrolls at the distance
No dazzling show of lightning

Angry and business-like
That’s how Michaung is
That name sounds like mayhem

Now the pitter-patter
just a resonance of anger
no sweeter any longer

Majestic and tall trees
Now swaying to the squalls
Firm roots now feeble
Desperately cling to earth

No more bird songs
Once sweet in the stillness
Silent and shivering somewhere

Wet pigeons seeking refuge
Behind silent air conditioners
Beneath sills of closed windows

Inside my house –
No power, internet or office calls
Yet, Bare feet now adorn slippers
Floors damp and cold

Outside my house —
A car rushes out
Emergency work
Leaves no choice

Those frontline soldiers
Facing the wrath of Michaung
Warriors during disaster

The furious wind roars
Winning the race with rains
Blowing the watery arrows away

Nothing nice about nature now
The Universe always speaks
If only we can listen — atleast now

Our hubris humbled
It’s a fantastic mind far beyond
Our ability to fathom

Perfect time for power cuts
When powerless is safe
A wise decision by
Those in power.
Window rattle a bit
Startled by the sneaky wind
A cold thieves sets us shivers

The still candle flame
Amber oasis of the dark
For humans and insects alike.

Trophies and plaques
Symbol of our measly victories
Glorified and swaying
Of the long shadows

Videos on the fury
And snakes and crocodiles
Fistful of funny memes
Texts about our safety

We list our favorite food
Surprise that I have many
And the foodies can’t find any

Yoga and meditation
A family thing these days
And dinner together

A morsel of electricity
Just enough they decide
Little flickers go off

No fan –
Twenty three degrees
For a tropical city
A heaven in fury

Water and wind compete
In the dance of the divine
Drowning us in deluge

A day unlike other
Ends in our slumber
Under a little blanket cover

Counting our blessings
Praying for the victims and
Thankful to the warriors

The dark city sleeps
drenched and drowned
Little do we know…
What awaits us tomorrow

~Ashok Subramanian © 2023

Cyclone Michaung makes landfall north of the city where I live, Chennai, in South India.