It was the morning after the first rain
of the season-
Fresh and quiet, new life percolatin'.
I kicked off my slippers, and felt the wet soil;
beneath my feet- soft and cool.
The solitude, draped over the garden-
the first rays seeping through,
The softest of chirps, and the new lives sprouting,
and the pearl drops glistening in the silk-webs in the bush.
It was all blurry without my glasses, true-
but my myopic eyes saw better,
than those lenses could ever do.
The blush of the first blossom
of the rose next to our door,
and the delightful petrichor-
I'd treasure them
as I coursed through my day.
_______
A/N
First rains are always special...at least for me. They mean a lot of things; above all, they symbolise a fresh start in life- hope and peace too. Hence this poem.
Do tell me if you love rains. What does the first rain of the season mean to you? Do let me know in the comments. I'd love to know.
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Poetry||Featured in Wattpad Poetry Feb 2022 || In lost strains from aeons ago, in summer winds sighing sweet and slow, in tinkling laughter just beyond sight, let words sing in dark and light. _______ Cover and Graphics: @...
