Song of the Delta

Where three rivers meet, monsoons whisper low,
Fertile fields once birthed verses sweet.
Now tides rise and fall, undercurrents grow,
Young bamboo shoots sway, bending to greet.
Early rains descend, silt-laden streams flow,
Levees strain—who'll mend the breach?
Fishermen's songs fade, their depths unknown,
Temple bells ring, but few do they reach.
Looms hum, weaving dreams in vibrant hue,
Yet life's struggles persist, years slowly crawl.
Mango groves heavy, fruits wait their due,
When will true harvest answer the call?
Midst storm and strife, lotus flowers bloom,
Pure hearts endure beyond the gloom.