green feeble breathing leaves,
under a blanket of light and thunder
with every passing tremor
from the abode of divinities,
they bathe unapologetically,

a melody cracks the humongous earth
into the notes of a lost symphony,
the rain is just a clairvoyant dancer,
foreseeing the smiles of all equals,

the petrichor transverses
the past,present and the future
in the spaces between space,

even my cold rusted heart,
breathes like a cancer dying patient,
for the last smoke in this petrichor,

and I am a child again, brisking through mud,
searching something that I do not even remember,
maybe I will find it in sometime,
in a place,where childhood went