Rain As Renewal And Memory Poem by ashok jadhav

The first drops fall like whispers on the dust,
Awakening the earth from thirsty sleep;
Dry roads release a scent both sweet and just,
Old summers rise from shadows buried deep.
Rain taps the roofs with fingers soft and slow,
A gentle song the past still seems to know;
Each silver thread recalls a time long gone—
Bare feet in mud, lost laughter, storms at dawn.
The trees lift leaves as if in quiet prayer,
Their tired green made young by falling grace;
The sky, once heavy, learns to breathe the air,
And cleans the tears from every waiting face.
So too my heart, washed clear by memory's rain,
Finds life renewed through joy once mixed with pain.