Bliss.

Bliss.

Friday, August 26, 2016

Rhapsodies In The Rain.

The mesmerising scent of the pure Earth,
The tangible freshness of the air,
The hesitant quiver of young foliage against the wind;
The overcast sky was poised to perform.

Tender drops glittered down in grace,
Even as the skies opened up with renewed fervour.
The nascent buds bloomed into a vibrant rhapsody,
Even as the seasoned trees embraced the ethereal showers.

The unwritten cue for celebration in some,
The song of monsoon is an eloquent hum.
Droplets condensed into a rapturous shower,
And Nature was ensnared in the arms of the heavenly power.

To some, this magic remains a stormy downpour,
Its chilling pleasure they may never explore,
The emblem of a raging tempest for the ordinary,
Is the stamp of an exotic dream, albeit momentary.

I was a bit skeptical about this one but it's actually got some veiled references. I'm trying to show how the rains can hold Nature under its spell. I want to potray that  people can experience the same monsoon weather and feel differently. To one, it is a celebration of their love. It seems that the rains are euphoric about their togetherness. To the other, the rain is but a reminder of a painful past. The same thing can mean different things to different people.