Greet me no goodbye, O Monsoon
The first raindrops dampen the dry earth when,
It’s not as if what smiles is just parched soil,
Rains arouse mind, a strange power moves my pen,
Thoughts wake up to rise from a quiescent coil.
Monsoon I think does not just flood rivers,
My mind as well with dormant memories,
Vague verses rushing down from strangest spheres,
Dreamily I muse monsoon melodies.
Thou art to me not mere rainy season,
Skies wearing grey robes when touch hidden world,
Seeking some strange depths its avowed reason
To be, and songs not ere heard get unfurled.
Yet, in white robes, as rains make slow retreat,
Should ye my songs a goodbye to me greet?
_____________________________________
Sonnet |30.09.2025| goodbye, monsoon, rains,
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