PC: Sanil Nair |
The
rain beats
a steady tempo,
rapid, intense,
with no undulating variations
no lightning notations,
no thunderous modulation,
there are no boughs
swinging to the beat
although
leaves tap their feet,
it’s a straight descent
from the heavens
seeping into the elements,
it’s been pouring so
for a couple of days
or perhaps more,
yet I miss the slanting rain
the lashing rain
the sweeping rain
the thrashing rain,
I miss the rain
that rushes me off my feet
to close the window
and then stops me
from doing so,
urging me to stay
and tarry for a gentle spray
to wet my face,
tempting me to eavesdrop
on the cavort
of the water and wind
in a passionate binge,
I miss the rain
that strikes my roof like a stone-pelter
to send me helter-skelter
but keeps me rooted
at the window ledge
listening to the sky instead.
©
That's a beautiful verse! The rain magic! Lovely detailing of the pleasures and joy that it brings alongwith. Just the way I enjoy it.
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/mdkallil
Thank you! I guess anyone would agree that rain is one of the various forms of nature's poetry.
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