The Rain

a poem by Aishwarya

Black are the skies, on tenterhooks are the minds,
Waiting is the heart, for a soulful feast,
The rejuvenating shower- the apparent laughter,
Of the clouds who are eager to go on leash.

The tender droplets, cooling the brow,
That gallivant in lazy steams,
Muddy brown water with a taste of rain,
That enamour the children, enlivening their dreams,

Their slight pricks that wake you up,
From the monotony of life and boredom,
Putting into you a unique thrill,
Of splashy water, and astonishment.

The freezing droplets that touch your cheek,
Remembrances of a sweet dream,
Let you enter the utopist lands,
Of amazing freedom, with the soul carefree.

The birds chirp with the freshest joy,
Letting out clouds of melody in the quiet,
The trees are all happy and gay,
Having bent their heads afore the cloud’s might.

In this materialistic life, where,
The mind is never out in the open,
The Rain opens the rusty locks,
The fading memories, giving you elation!

This incomparable blessing of God,
Who holds the world in his fist,
Takes you to paradise,
Leaving behind the hazy mist,
Of deceit and chaos, of hatred and falsehood,
Resurrect you do for the shortest span,
But enjoy and cherish this downpour,
When the sun isn’t tanned.

The creator of happiness,
Who expands the dimension of bliss,
The troubleshooter of man,
Rain- unworthy to miss!