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.