Monsoon

The clouds drowned in a massive drop,

Held themselves too tightly to pour.

A silence cracked beneath the skies,

Thunder breathed in tearful cries.

Every monsoon signifies a bloom—

For something to grow and something to vanish.

Petals rise where the past was torn,

While broken stems are partly mourned.

Monsoon has its ways to flourish,

Too short a time, yet full to nourish.

Too brief a phase, yet lids unhid,

Revealing truths that once were hid.

Some bloom, but some consume—

Monsoon signifies the way of life,

Washing the dust of everyday strife.

~RT🤍