Friday, 8 February 2013

Of Rain And Reunion.

Of Rain And Reunion


Quiet.
Like the still on every porch of a deserted town 
That was lost in battle.
Like the flutters of the shriveled sand in a desert
Where the wind once rattled.

Frozen lay the leaves, the hint of a shiver 
Running down their weakened spines in anticipation.
Inky skies tease them with their billows of hair of clouds
Which murmur in appreciation.

By her window she sits, dazed from the picturesque
Memories that keep her alive.
Clammy hands knot together and salty water glistens
On the lackluster roses that once thrived;

In the intricate spring of their love.
Hopes and fresh moisture.

And then, rain.

The immaculate, crystalline orbs rush down,
Expelled from the sky by giant catapults.
Gratefully, they kiss their beloved leaves and
Embrace their long lost strands of grass, and build;
Up a melody so beautiful as they shatter, on
Old brick walls, forests and fragile ferns;
They mingle with the tears of unhappy lovers and;
Dance across the upturned faces of the happy ones.

And there he stands resplendent,
Silhouetted against the endless voids of night.
In sweet frenzy, barefoot she runs, from chaos into the perfection of his arms,
Over the trot of the rain he whispers against her delight;
Of the promises he had made, as the final remains of raindrops
Shimmered on their faces and on petals of forgotten flowers.
That he'd return when the leaves would reunite with the rain that they clamor for
On the fateful night of the year's first showers.


3 comments:

Rabbi Ritah said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Rabbi Ritah said...

Well, this was a long time coming. I was starting to wonder when you were going to post something about the rain. And it's a wonderful poem.
The rain's always been something that I've considered close to me, I like to believe that my thoughts and emotions about the rain have have had a deep impact on my life and whenever I see it raining, and those familiar yet exhilarating, cathartic feelings wash over me, I'm thankful that something can make me feel alive even after so many of our meetings.
The poem is very organic and moist, the words used have that wet feel to them and this makes the entire poem very atmospheric and involving. The word rain itself is a very pretty word and it's been used many times here, as it deserves to be. The theme of the poem, I believe, is the contrast of the ideas of promise and freedom. Here, there is the promise of the rain. A promise that sandy plains, shrunken flowers and lonely lovers hold to heart. The rain is, in a word, free. All it's sublime raindrops are not bounded, chained to anything except to the Earth to which they gladly fall, to the sound of thunderous music. Rain is the epitome of freedom, of newness and freshness, these two ideas are so deeply connected, and rain is evidence for this. However, the only thing that the rain is bound by is it's promise, it's unfaltering word that it will come again. And this is the word that the entire world waits on. Just like a girl, waiting for her lover to keep his promise. In this way, rain is a lot like love. Love sets you free in every possible way, but in return you are inextricably bound to another. However, just like the wait for the rain, it is completely worth it.
People go to sleep hoping that someone somewhere keeps their word or comes through for them, the world is built on promises that are to be kept, and the most magnificent example for this, is the rain.

Sramana Dan said...

:-) I should've known you love the rain as much as I do, its one of the most beautiful things I've known, and I can only associate with other things just as beautiful, like love. You see, rain is never fickle, each raindrop clings to its leaf till the end, it keeps its promise.
Its raining again. Listen :-)