A Sunday morning,
Torrential rain,
Monsoon peak,
In greater heights.

I sit alone in my room,
Watching through window,
The torrential rain,
And waiting for the sun rays,
To visit me,
As and when clouds give way.

Wind blows,
Trees shake and swing,
Hugging each other,
And playfully bath,
In monsoon shower,
The largest and greatest,
One can ever dream of.

I sit and watch,
A mango tree with tender mangoes,
A jackfruit without fruits,
A coconut tree with a few coconuts,
An arracknut tree just ready to bear fruit,
And many trees and plants around,
Bathing together in monsoon shower.

There come flying two crows,
Sat on the branch of mango tree,
Swinging together in the branch,
Helped by monsoon wind,
Bathing together in the shower,
To my envy.

What a joy on the eyes of crows,
Occasionally winking a cursory look at me.

I wish I had the wings,
To fly out through the window,
Reach and sit on mango tree branch,
Bath beneath monsoon shower,
Swinging on mango tree branch,
Helped by monsoon wind.