Its raining. Again.
Pouring like a waterfall.
Its been going for
Hours.
So much Rain!
It surges through the storm water drains
Like a mighty river.
I stand by the balcony and listen.
Listen to its heartbeat.
Entranced by the torrential downpour
Its sweet fragrance.
The land is being cleansed.
Washed. Renewed. Baptized.
...
It seldom rains where I come from.
And if it does, it is slight.
The land is dry and hard.
Thirsty. Parched.
There is no love.
God has forsaken the land.
A man will cross an ocean to escape from such a place
Copyright: YMC Nov 2008
4 comments:
Nice poem....I like it:)
Thanks. I made it up last night. I like watching it rain here. Its real rain - not the poor excuse we get in Melbourne. :)
I also like to watch the rain from my window :)
Don't we all... don't we all...
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