At first I didn’t understand that flooding waters covered land,
at first I thought an unmapped sea was stretching to eternity,
small boats were sailing, fishers fished,
nets were thrown and water splashed,
along our road on either side I thought I saw a seas high tide.
But monsoon waters ebb away and by that route an autumn day
wide seas of water had withdrawn, a transformation undergone,
patchwork fields horizon wide
with aisles and bunds to subdivide,
Fresh fertiled soils now promise growth, receding waters made that oath.
And as long summer months go by, food-basket rice spreads sky to sky,
sweet harvest time is drawing near, reward for those who persevere,
long muddy hours farmer’s toil,
their bare feet tread deep fertile soil,
official maps simplicity can never show reality.