The raindrops sound rather large and swift. They fall on the corrugated tin roof of the guard house in my neighbour's compound. They beat down on the leaves, on the bamboo shoots that grow outside my room. They take me so many places.
Each sound is new and old at the same time. Each smell it kicks-up from what it falls on, is old and new. Rain is relief- connecting my now to then.
I always fall short of words when it rains, as though nothing I say would describe it aptly. The only things I can do about it are, listen, touch and gaze.
When it rains, it's always you Im thinking of.
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Yes, listen it...or dance in the rain too... :)
ReplyDeleterain-walks are good.
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