The Rain Balcony

Pitter Patter knocks on the French window,

Beckons my soul to free myself

From the jungles of steel

Tar roads also give out petrichor.

Concrete loaded trees

Now breathe fresh

Greener than ever

Wink at me with shiny leaves.

Artificial air conditioning

Stands no chance

Against the gush of

Moisture of the first rain.

Body and soul we rush to

Respond

Pause at the rain balcony

As the drops pick up pace.

The quantum of drizzles

Kiss my parched face

The face which fights daily with

Urban dual standards.

The face that is forced to chin up

In adversities and move on

Motherly drizzles

Comfort the tanned skin

That has resisted the heats of change.

Arms outstretched

I expose my nude soul

Allowing the greed to breed

On nature’s uncanny nutrition

Old scars and recent wounds.

All in joy

For the pouring rains

Now soothe

The wounded

The exposed

The neglected.

Exuded inflictions

Washed and cleansed

Disconnect reconnected

My body and soul

Reunite .....