When It Rains Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

When it rains, my cataract eyes see more than ordinary,
behind the falling drops, the river disappears,
the horizon comes near,
the grey sky becomes my heart,
and the birds with soaked feathers my tears.
As the trees bathe in rain, I get goosebumps,
a lump of flesh in my throat does not allow me to speak,
what do I do then?

It rains,
the skyrise and the hutments get equal share of what pours,
and I try to pen down my thoughts.

Rain will take away all the words
that I write,
they will flow down the river to become oceanic waves -
on the shore I will stand
and feel the salty taste.

A few more drops:
do they make any difference?