YET ANOTHER MONSOON
When the clouds embrace
The parched souls,
Their dreams
Begin to rush forth
In torrents
That fill up troughs
Of solitude.
Little hopes sprout everywhere.
I close my doors,
And let the music of raindrops float along,
As the Monsoon dances
Along the vacant alleys.
Nature weaves yet another story
For thirsty hearts,
That capture more memories,
Of floating boats and raincoats.
I close my eyes and smile.
Seventy monsoons have gone by
And my soul soaks in
The bliss of yet another one.
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