The First Rain-6
The first muttering drops,
Of the perennial cycle of season,
Fills me with its glorious fragrance,
The aroma of half soaked earth,
sweetens the space with its presence,
My spellbound heart waits for thy appearance,.
The ballad we shared,
The chronicle of love we exchanged,
The roses that bloomed in my garden,
Ripens with every unspoken drops,
Triggers my musings to pen my thoughts .
When the monsoon lashes ,
Its arrival in my roof ,
The typhoon in me searches
The core of my deeper self
Which tells I am in love with you,,
In the thorny cloud of nostalgia,
You wink with the cascading desire,
In the hours of solitude,
The heavenly dew reminds the cloud ,
That shroud me in burial ground.
History of rain knows,
How with each drop it grows,,
How powerful is the first rain,
How beautiful is the memory ,
That retains its essence in longterm.