Sprinkled Rice


In Asia, rice plants are everywhere you look,
Some are irrigated, while some are terraced,
Like the steps of Banaue, while others
Are found as upland aerobic rices.
It is a staple that feeds the mouth, and a merrymaker
As in Tapuy and Saki, which makes
Locals a lot inebriated and fondling
Everything with their pinwheeling eyes.
In this part of the world, paddy farmers,
Cultivate rice, especially the short-term varieties,
Cultivars that give yields in 2-3 months,
And this becomes, at the grassroots level,
The driving force of livelihoods, economies,
Cultures and lifestyles. How breathtaking,
To see a heading rice plant, the peduncle
Emerging with a pledge from Midas,
Where slender chalky grains dressed,
In a hull, can be seen dancing in the monsoon wind.
Here, lives simply revolve around rice.
Like how circumstance sculpts choice,
Choice engines fate, and fate,
Determines whether it will be deluging rice
As you walk past, hand-in hand, through the sprinkled grains
Knowing the gods have given their blessings,
And the moon is sweeter than honey,
To plow – and plow – the waiting field,
Until one day, a little shoot can be seen emerging,
Bearing the vigor, of a sprouting dream.

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