It is the quiet of the clouded sky…
The silent rustle of awakened leaves…
And, the trumpet sound of eternal greydom…
In its awesome glory…melancholy beauty
The urgent patter on plastic keys
Fall silent…
One by one, everyone looks out…
The magnificent is getting ready to dance…
All present feels the music…
Slow…Steady…Rising to a zenith
Wild…Passionate…Beautiful…
As, the light streaks across the sky
For a moment, all is quiet…
As, if the walls have dissolved
And, we want to be washed by its freshness
Then, we turn back…the patter starts again…civilization calls…
2 comments:
A cloudy may... maybe July will bring droplets more intense, more swaying mad trees and two beating hearts by the window...
its like this song i love listening to in the season's first rain...pristine...n colourful....i love the strokes of monsoon...they give me goosebumps...keep writing
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