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Rain


I hear the pitter-patter of rain, 
greedily savor the whiff of bathed Earth
and I see, yet again, that palace frozen in time
my home, far, far away.
The misty memories of a blissful past
lay interred in those walls of faded pink,
the heaving groan of the rusted gate sounds
as melodic as the chirp of the bulbul.
The rain smelt sweeter then, in those bygone days
when I'd hold my grandfather's large hand, and
my little feet would splash puddles all about.
How I feel sometimes, as if only yesterday
that large umbrella towered over me amid
the incessant drip-drop and that man's
booming laughter as we'd walk!
And it reminds me then, of that day,
embellished eternally in my mind,
when even that man, larger than life itself
was united with Earth's welcoming bosom.
It rained even then, upon the both of us,
and trickled down my moistened cheeks,
for there was no umbrella over my head.


Date: October 26, 2021
6th Place, Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest

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