Rain: The God’s Messenger

The heavens weep with argent tears,
Enshrouding earth in silver spheres,
A benediction from skies untold,
Reviving fields with verdant gold.

Tempests whisper through zephyrs fleet,
With thund’rous drums and lightning’s heat,
Yet in the chaos blossoms peace,
Where parched horizons find release.

The rivers swell in opulent might,
Their sapphire veins a wondrous sight,
Bestowing life to famished lands,
With emerald bloom at nature’s hands.

Oblations fall from clouded shrine,
As fragrance seeps from soil divine,
The petrichor, a sacred hymn,
That sanctifies the dusk so dim.

The lotus crowns each mirrored lake,
In hues no painter’s brush could make,
While peacocks dance with jewelled plume,
Adoring rain’s celestial tune.

Cascading torrents cleanse the air,
Of dust, despair, and summer’s glare,
The spirit bathes in tranquil streams,
Awakening long-forgotten dreams.

Harvests burgeon in ripened pride,
Where once the famished earth had cried,
The monsoon feeds with lavish hand,
The granaries of every land.

Children wade through rivulets wide,
Their laughter with the rain allied,
A chorus pure, so free, unplanned,
As nature’s joy walks hand in hand.

Though winter chills and spring beguiles,
Though summer flaunts her blazing wiles,
The rainy reigns supreme above,
A season draped in boundless love.

O monsoon queen, thy grace descends,
Where all beginnings find amends,
The crown of seasons, thine enthral,
The rainy reign—the best of all.

-- Nita Pathak