Water Water, where are you?

Plough the land as deep as you could,
And keep counting the drops of rain,
Falling on your driest,tilled soil. 
The rain is the worst truant now,than ever.
The clouds are beating against their breast,
Chased by the hooting heat of the sun.
We have saved avarice and envy, 
At the expiry of the elixir of life.
Nothing grows here,excepting hate and enmity.
Nature's wrath is against all our unholy path.
We have to desilt our minds,before
Desilting the ponds and lakes left in the lurch.
Politicians keep shuffling their towel colours
May be,for want of water to wash them'clean'.
Banana leaves and tissue sheets precede food,
Forcing restaurants small,medium and big
To call off hand wash,as a primitive practice.
Rest rooms whining for water,rest as waste.
Gods will take a vacation from being bathed,
To help humans sponge their bodies once a way.
Sponging is of course the sweetest forte for us.
How many sponging episodes we are used to.
From temples to tiny homes all are equal today,
All going the same way,everyday,be they rich or poor.
In nursery tones all cry"water water where are you?"
Pat says water,"find me out,find me out if you are true".
             {Note:-Sponging -accepting money and materials 
                    from others without doing anything in return}
P. Chandrasekaran.