Waiting for the Rain

(Image Source: Google)

My hands starve as I embrace the pain,
Poem consoles my restless heart,
Counting its beats for the rain.
My charred nerves move
Like a dolphin,
Lost,
When the shooting star
Broke fire in the ocean.

I giggle as they tell me,
How across the western shore,
You gifted your cognizance;
Across the meadows, across the forest,
On the wheels always,
Among the people, you rest.

My heart lost count of the outbursts,
Tears burn my aching eyes;
Then I feel the clouds
Of chapters you wrote;
The vapor creates oxygen;
Moments desire to be set free;
They pick up your quotes
And torment the pain.
Thunder writes the bleeding dream.
Rain! Rain!
Oh Beloved!!
I wait to live in the rain.

But you are summoned elsewhere,
Where very few people
Know the alphabets
That write smile
On faces in need.
It’s a pride, I cherish
In those wee hours ,
When the darkness fills my room,
Reeking uncertainty,
Trying to incarcerate my hopes.

I smell the rain as my hand
Crawls up to the pain;
A word with you,
In an hour or two,
You put the pain to hallucination,
The wait tells me,
Stories of its enigmatic charm.
Oh Beloved,
I listen,
To the promise of rain,
Oh Beloved,
I wait,
Staring at the western sky,
My arms wide open
To embrace the rain.

#Day29 ; #Poem29

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