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The first rain

The sound of the first monsoon cascade-
through the clouds warring,
on the tinned roof,the metal window ledges,
the glass pane and the path just outside my window-
cleaning,clearing the windshields of my dusty memories
painful yet warm
luring me back to the time
which does not exist anymore.
Momentary flashes of light,thundering clouds grand,
pregnant with memories-
overflowing,pushing,shovelling,demanding presence in my today.
When I have settled the matter with me
I sit back to watch and celebrate the play of the nature -
the colour,the vigour,the flashes of energy
from a distance-
a mere spectator watching the beauty of creation in it's passionate tyrst.

Comments

Famit said…
powerful use of words...vivid description.as if I was present there.
March 30, 2009 at 3:59 AM
pixi said…
Thanks hon!I am getting my voice back.
April 1, 2009 at 12:47 AM
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