Monsoon And Men Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

I recall rare when last I had
Earth's fragrance following first rain,
Heard peacock call, gone monsoon mad
At sensing rains without refrain,
Saw a joyful farmer's fair face,
Right arrival of season's rain,
Children playing with paper boats
In waters flooding a dirt lane;
But what rain means in city space?
Help from heat, or virtual floats,
Covered up full to keep out rain,
Cut off from every Nature's scene;
Like umbrella has been a man,
Wet from without, dry from within!
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Musings | 10.07.18 |