When the pangs of thirst throttles the throat,
Life prays for rain in unison sans any ifs and buts.
Descends down the rain from heaven on cloud chariot.
Drizzles or pours whatsoever, each time it’s a new musical note.
The greying, decaying earth takes rebirth, lives celebrate with mirth.
Greeneries and green, all drenched is seen, if not a purified redemption bath.
The sound of rain wipes away all pain, can it be called a noise!
The orchestra it makes with the croaking of frogs and buzzing of crickets a team of amazing choirs.
The love call of the peacock, too harsh to the ears.
When mind is in pleasure, all positive, sweet music the ear only hears.
Cacophony can be so sweet, can’t be believed if not one hears.
The thuds of the thunderous strokes,in between the medleys with refrains.
Sound of long awaited rain, wipes out pangs of pain.
Life may bridge, may too cease, must continue the monsoon rain.
The earth with mirth must welcome this angel from the heaven.