Rain...

Rain...

A huge grey bird engulfs the skies
With every flap of its wings
emerges a hasty gust
to whose prolonged whistles
the dense tree tops sway...
and in great anticipation
the earth decks up to witness
the dance of the Gods

As the drops descend
quenching the soul's deep desires
the eyes shut slowly
and the mind wakes up alike

Like a lonely wanderer
wading through the woods
She longs for..
one touch of the jungle breeze
one scent of the wild bloom
that call of the first barbet..
In silent abundance
she probes on and on
wanting to lose herself
in search of nothingness

As if found the profound
The mind smiles
and the eyes open..
Pat falls a drop on her wet lashes

...it is still raining