Tears of Heaven..

The farmer wipes his brow, ribs jutting out,

Looking up in a haze of desperation,

The town people stare from their porch,

Though privileged in their steel and glass coffin,

To have temperatures regulated,

But deep within, the soul of all is parched 

And aches for the rains, after the gruelling summer.

The clouds huddle up fast, dark and pregnant with 

Life giving water,

Gods greatest symphony has started, with thunder and lightning preceding rain,

The cool ecstatic wind, wipes away the fever of ennui,

Thud of the first drop, as a knock from Heaven,

Followed by a gradual cascading deluge of rain,

Who can not revel and dance in the rapture,

Of this eternal tune of Nature?

Sound of water gurgling down the drains,

The most soothing sound, of rains hammering away,

While one lay in sheets, in the hills,

For here the drama of monsoon, is much magnified.

All creatures wake up from the slumber,

The birds sing songs of gratitude,

A perennial stream gushes forth,

All grime and dust, washed away 

To a shining fresh green costumes.

These great blessings we often overlook,

But like the child, whose parents grave are dug,

And his tears washed with the rains,

A long long journey it seems to the formative mind,

But what flashes in his inner eye,

Are the small times, of paper boats and mothers lap,

He shall cherish for lifetime.

Once there was a house and home,

Taken over by the weeds and wilderness,

The wonder years resides in precious vault of mind,

Or they would seek to exist,

As the ruins echo of parties and moments,

Now the music plays,

To the ghosts of the past,

While the eternal cycle of timelessness,

Keeps its promise with one and all.