Rising as the morning dawns
Doing yoga, stifling yawns
Bright leg warmers, woolen socks
Using ropes and belts as props
Ginger lemon honey tea
Squatting when you have to pee
Glistening fields of yellow corn
Knitted hats to keep you warm
Israeli babies named Aya and Eli
Shiny ringlets, smooth brown bellies
Hand-sized spiders on my walls
Like strange dancers when they crawl
Other treats the monsoon brings?
Snails and slippery, slimy things
They inch along my yellow walls
I find them in the yoga hall
But other days, it’s warm and dry
The sky decides to smile, not cry
And on those days, I sit and bask
All of nature feels relaxed
The sun shines hot upon my clothes
They flutter in the breeze that blows
I walk through meadows of green grass
It kisses my ankles as I pass
I sit down and eat Bhagsu cake
It moments it vanishes from my plate!
But then, alas, the mist returns
It moistens trees and curls ferns
I gather my umbrella up
Slide the money under the cup
Cast an eye up towards the sky
And pray I make it home in time
But now the rain is coming down
I slip and slide away from town
Muddied paths in sandaled feet
Clean toes are a novelty!
I make it home before the clap!
Of menacing thunder welcomes me back
I slide into my cozy bed
And pull a hat down on my head
Tomorrow will dawn bright and early
Even though my feet are dirty
I wish I’d taken a nice hot shower
But the water’s cold, ‘cause we have no power!
A candle pops on my windowsill
My breath is even, my mind is still
It’s time to sleep, goodnight, amen!
I must be up at six a.m.!