Spitting Of Clouds

Monsoon has

stepped

in the Indian soil,

Making all fresh

and clear and

prone to toil.

Worldly human

mass expect

life supporting

Stuffs,

Peasant mass

trust upon the

heaven's elixir

for displaying

benevolence

on paddy fields.

Romantic youths

bathing in rain

showers seek the

fragrance of the 

virgins' touch,

As their bachelor

hood inspires 

their green

senses to wander

in the Dreamland's

Coach.

Raindrops inject

a new life in the

wild fauna's chest

in their native

dense woods,

While hermits sit

gearing up sixth

sense in their

divine cottage in

pursuit of eternal

bliss.

A short pitter patter

of raindrops alert

the diurnal tree

dwellers at the best

to move out of their

holes in the morn,

Whereas breaking

the nap of

nocturnal creatures

in the evening

hours to forage in

the shadowy light

of the cloud-clad

moon.

Monsoon plays

with juvenile spirit

In the native lands

with amusing and

joking get ups

throughout the

season,

Ever minding to

sprouting greens

supporting mankind

and nourishing

flora and fauna that

signifies the

greatness of the rain.

The dear life giver

Monsoon swaying

over the sub

continents, drops 

the nectary

panacea for ever,

Never caring 

for itself how long

it will keep on it's

universal service

with an impartial

mood here.

     

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