The Rain and the Pain
Beside me, a peacock sat,
Quiet, as we both awaited the rain.
The garden around us, dry and eager,
Longed for the sky's nurturing gift.
A gentle rain began to fall,
Caressing us, tickling every sense.
The peacock burst into a dance,
A whirl of colours, a fleeting joy.
My heart sang with the earth's spin,
Tears of happiness joined the rivers' chorus.
But the peacock fled for cover—why?
What turned the bright clouds dark?
The dance stopped, replaced by fear,
Twigs once dry now adrift in chaos.
Tears of joy tainted with dread,
Petals faded, their vibrancy washed away.
The nests, my hut, all swept aside,
By the storm's indifferent might.
I shouted, "Hold on! It's time to save,
For one life holds a world within."
Is this the price of thunder's roar,
Of dark clouds and raging waters?
Hands reach out, seeking help,
Prayers rise, hoping to be heard.
Where is the Divine in this deluge?
Are our voices lost in the storm?
My tears, once bold, now diluted,
I had a gift, a date to keep.
"Don't let me be lost," I plead,
As the wait ends and the moment nears.
Everyone rushes to escape the flood,
"Let me leap," I beg, "to safety's side."
emm*
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