The Season.

 

At first, the lands are so dry and dusty.

 No one wants to take the path

Since it leads to no destination.

And the people wish for the rains to clear

The paths and let the dust settle.

Because it irritates them.

 

Without warning from the sky,

There is a sign. The cloudy wind gathers 

the dark clouds in line.

And the smell of rain is felt in the warm wind whirling

To set the day for the right season.

For it’s been long since the rains reigned, taking

Power over the dust that sat with pride on her throne.

 

Do you feel the drizzle?

It’s touching my face .

Embracing it with a longing of place.

I can hear the fall of rains

The patrichor makes it more beautiful 

Like the sound of the drum

Carrying along with it the beating of their heartbeats,

Counting every second made

In the light of the falling rains.