Moments in the Rain

a poem by Mary Mathew

Clouds surrender
To its deepest potent urgings,
Satiating my desire.
Listening to the listless patter
Of the rain from my room,
Striking a chord in me,
Like a Beethoven’s octave
Pitched perfectly.

Slowly, I make way
To the empty playground,
The substance of my feelings
Is not altogether clear to me.
I taste the saccharin virgin rain
As it trails a path over my cheeks,
And down, down below
It flows, touching me till.

The earth revives. And so do I.

Then suddenly,
I hear a summons,
A rumbling, roaring noise.
I look up with difficulty,
Well, nothing there!
Then where?

I look sideways,
Inside my home, I see
A figure grumbling
As if having a temper tantrum at the sky.
I bolt inside like a lightning,
To pacify my kid getting bored at home.

“Honey, surely I love you.
I was remembering our honeymoon,
You remember when the monsoon.”