Life = Death - Volume 4 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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22. IF THE CLOUDS SHOWERED GOLD INSTEAD OF RAIN 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; the minutest trace of poverty would be annihilated from earth, 

The indigent beggars on the street would catapult in sheer ecstasy; stashing as much of coin as they ever dreamt of; in their ragamuffin bags. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; marriages round the globe would occur in chambers of impeccable silk, 

With the bride extravagantly embellished in silken cloth; and the bridegroom completely bereft of the onerous tension to earn. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; the commoner would traverse on glistening roads of molded yellow, 

The thieves would forget to pilfer; and the Mafia would forget to maraud; as they were now blessed with opulence right from the colossal sky. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; man would incorporate his house with gigantic slabs of the same, 

Articulately sculpturing his plates of the gold; ravenously consuming his food from it; profoundly lost in the scintillating glitter. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; people would be saved from the tyranny of monotonous work, 

Transit from realms of despondency to one replete with ebullience; easily perishing the desire to perspire and slog. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; clusters of birds would utilize gold in place of threadbare twigs to construct their nests, 

The armory of their eggs would hatch in an ambience of ostentatious gold; blended with profuse opulence. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; abhorrent termites would tenaciously gnaw in their deadly pincers, 

They would be treated to a ravishing meal of currency coin for a change; were absolutely delighted; after being used to painstakingly nibbling decayed wood.

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; severely afflicted patients would leave their disdainful hospital beds, 

Run out rampantly on the streets refraining to rue their pain; spreading out their febrile palms to clasp the gold. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; the fighter pilots flying at unprecedented heights in the sky would forget to fire a fleet of hostile grenade, 

They would be too busy to concentrate on the pugnacious war; open the door of the cockpit to get hold of the gold. 

 

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; every individual would feel overwhelmingly blessed initially; with the rigmarole and turmoil to work completely diminishing, 

However the plants sprouting from soil would die a gruesome death; the animal kingdom would fatally relinquish breath; 

 

And the most treasured species of man would disastrously succumb without crystal water; which was now replaced by gold in all forms and traces, 

Therefore it is my humble plea to you O! Divine creator; to shower upon the earth bountiful rain; wherein lies impregnated abundantly; the true spirit and the true gold.