The morning sun squints at a half-opened eye,
A raindrop shines.
Lying in bed I wonder why we dole out more love to some people over others,
We complaint sometimes that life is unfair, but aren’t we all?
It must be the monsoon that plays havoc with my thoughts.
It’s pouring crazy now, filling up the dry cracks on the ground creating familiar, yet aloof puddles.
I can smell the moist earth through the window,
It always gives me such a heady rush making my skin tingle with dilemma.
Should I run for cover, or should I go out and embrace the rain?
Do I know when it will end? or, will it suddenly stop with the
press of a switch, and, no one will remember that it ever happened?
But, happens it does. Again, and yet again, and makes me happy and erases my pain.
The only tell-tale signs will be my moist clothes, and muddy feet.
And, some fading memories of a distant Sunday, not so long ago in a land far away.
There was something I wanted to give you, something I needed you to have.
But I think it lost its way in transit from my front door to yours.
Over continuous pots of caffeine, I try to chase away things I won’t remember;
But they seize me now in the moment with a vengeance that is certainly not mine.
And, I know even if I try to push away the bird songs, and the crawling of the worms in the slush outside,
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind it will forever rain an endless, lazy, and slow drizzle.
Years later, you might see someone like me walk past you,
In the busy sidewalks of a city that we both thought we’d live in together someday.
But before you can catch up, and match my step with yours the traffic lights would’ve changed,
And I would’ve walked on, not knowing that you were right behind.
Maybe, you’ll remember me whenever it rains.