The vernal showers- so sublime, divine,
Pattering on enticing eglantine,
Resounding refrain, the thunders sing,
The spectral arcs smearing spirit of spring,
Drenched in that shower from welkin’s soul,
Marigolds and tulips dance enthralled.
I hear them drizzle on the grassy green,
Their song like a lullaby my senses reign,
My silent rendezvous with these drops blissful,
Exuding ecstasy within wistful,
That I be intrepid to wonder in awe-
“What be these drops that stir my soul?”
They be showers of blessings from a celestial mind,
To cleanse the peccadilloes of human kind.
Or they be drops from plaintive eyes, lamenting-
“What man has made of man.”
Copyright © A.Unni Krishnan | Year Posted 2005
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