when an edifice crumbles
there’s a shift, a crack, a rumble
riding on the wings of the bumblebee
it bounces off the steps of the winding stairs
and lands on the claws of the feral cats
dripping from the beak of the rose-ringed parakeet
it flies past the chikoo, the champa, the banana leaf
and comes to rest on that broad-leaved tree
trailing the squeak of the fast-footed squirrel
it tightens with each flash, each lightning streak
and wraps the day in sleepless knots and twists
going out to sea and coming back again
it ricochets off the bricks and heaps of sand
and scales up fast beyond the jagged skyline
lingering awhile on the bulging cloud
it quickens the fall of each raindrop
and resounds with the burst of thunder
cutting, splitting and flattening the grass
it screams and wails with the feral cats
and through it all the cloistered Buddha smiles
day will turn to night until dawn breaks
the heat swells but she will rise
bringing the nourishing midnight rain
sprouting new life, an afterlife perhaps
Zarin Virji is a school leader, teacher trainer and writer.
Featured image: Corina Rainer / Unsplash