The Show

After a day of flurry,

I hobble through the night,

As myriad explosions of sound and light

Grip my mind and whirl it around..

A rhythm builds up in the air, like drum beats;

I gambol like a newly born calf,

To the source of it all.

The window becomes a portal

Promising to take me away to a wonder world..

And as I stand on the mundane side of it,

I watch Nature's drama unfold:

First the curtains of silvery drops,

Eager to embrace the earth;

Then that sound of celebration,

As the little drops tottered to meet her..

And the heady fragrance

Of a rejuvenated earth,

As she plans to knit herself a shawl of green..

Suddenly comes the thunder,

Like the sky yearns for attention

And I look up to see

Lightning playing hide and seek with the clouds

I realise that I am speechless…

But neither are words necessary.

I could call someone to watch too…

But I feel selfish;

None of them would understand,

Few of them would care..

So with a smug joy I plop down on the floor

With childish awe, I try to gather drops

When it strikes me like the lightning above,

That there's no truer celebration of the senses.

This window - the portal - is it a sieve for time?

It seems I have been sitting here  forever

But I think one more forever would be fine.

Nature's done entertaining I guess,

All sound has stopped with the rain…

There's a fresh zeal to the air;

Earth, she's pulling on a shy veil of mist…

And I'm tempted to yell "Encore!"