The Music of Rainfall..

In the distance,
the rumble of thunder;
I hear the silent swish
of a dark cloud,
pregnant with rain –
it floats toward me;
I hear the first drop
leave its dark bubble –
it sings through the sky,
fall with a plop
onto the empty road;
I hear the dust rise,
petrichor –
it readily covers me,
and I smile.

I open my eyes,
feeling refreshed;
in the distance,
the rumble of thunder.


Linked with OctPoWriMo (Day 9, The Music of Rainfall)


(’12, Oct 09)

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

12 thoughts on “The Music of Rainfall..

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  1. I love the entire poem but this line was especially stirring:
    >>> I hear the first drop
    >>> leave its dark bubble –

    My son taught me to listen to the shower when I turn it on, to hear the water on its way and then, it breaks free from its shower head.

    You have made me want to listen more intently for this… THANK YOU!

    • Your son has a strong muse already I think πŸ™‚ wonderful suggestion that from him.

      Thanks Julie for appreciating my poem. πŸ™‚

    • Ah. I remember that from my childhood days too, Martin. It’d be very calming. Here, its on my window pane usually. Still calming though πŸ™‚

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