Rain Streaming Down My Window

The rain
Streaming down my window
The rain
Frosting the glass
Like the cloudy breath of Mikail
The rain
Obscuring my vision
Blurred, a fairy’s abode.

Their tendrils, wispy, green
Graceful fingers
Brush at the misty pane
Beckoning in the breeze
Watery rivulets
Glide down their leafy veins
Drip, drop, drip, drop.

The Earth was born anew that day.
Pure, innocent, untouched
A wet, wild world
The suns and hollies
With tears of sweet ecstasy
In the garden
To the tinkling tune of raindrops.

It felt
Of bright yellow lemons
Freshly picked
From Daadi’s orchard
Squeezed into scunjabeen
After a hot June game
Of cricket with the boys.

The window is open
A spray
Of icy water
Bathes my face
The air
Damp and sweet
Light, cool, traipsing
The land breathes.

The farmers must be euphoric!
Tillers of the soil
Their wheat and rice
Arid, parched, thirsty
‘New baptized’
With relief, hope, rebirth
A Shower from Paradise.

I see
Rippling pools of water
Swim gaily on the ground
Splish, splosh
Puddles, reminiscent
Of ‘the good old summer days’
Carefree, lost, ignorant

I hear
Daadi praying
In the next room
I hear
A rumble, a roar
Is it thunder?
No, it is
A plane
Soaring overhead
Smooth, stentorian
It’s gone.

It’s been a lovely evening
I feel
A tickle in my nose
Welcome, Autumn
A Time to Rejoice.
We have
No crisp dull leaves
Crinkling beneath our merriment
Only rain
And rain
And rain.
Cleansing, purging, awakening
As it streams down
The glass of my bedroom window.

I hear
A whistling in the chimneys
The Wind Woman is an old friend
Her voice echoes in my ears…
It is Ammi!
The house is astir
Bia lifts a drowsy eye
Abbu rings for the evening tea
“Quick, bring in the washing!”
Ammi calls again.
Startled out of my reverie
I leave my window
I leave the room,
Never to return
To the seat, unclaimed forevermore.

The washing is wet. Oh dear.

And the rain streams down my window…

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