I can feel the smell of fresh earth in the air
Cool breeze
Swaying trees
An assortment of dark clouds in the sky
Lightning and thunder
There's a storm coming
And then there's the storm of feelings brewing inside my head as I sip my cup of tea
The first drop of rain kisses the earth
It starts with a little pitter patter
And then there's just an absolute downpour of emotions
It's like the sky is crying it's heart out
And the sound is like some symphony
And every now and then it reaches a crescendo and then calms down again
The birds are flying hither tither
Some take shelter in my window ledge and sill
Some cars and motorcycles stop in their tracks
People on the road taking their umbrellas out
Those without one scampering for cover
Some drenching their hearts out in the rain
As it starts to flood a bit some kids make paperboats and set them out on the rainwater sea..
As I watched these scenes from my window I couldn't help but think of my childhood days
Days when I used to feel more and think less
But then I guess with age you grow wiser or maybe dumber or a bit timid..i don't know..
As a kid the rains for me was all about having a good time
Now it's all about watching and reminiscing the childhood days

Her face gave away absolutely nothing
But her eyes.. I could never forget
It was as blue as the sea
A man could drown in those eyes
I could see the waves of different emotions travelling through her eyes
I could see the beauty of the sky
It was as if she held the entire galaxy in her eyes
The rage and strength of the sun
The calming beauty of the moon
The magical seduction of the stars
I wonder what celestial dreams she held in them
Or what untold pain she must be concealing?
Perhaps her eyes were a library of secrets
Or maybe they were filled with desires still waiting to be fulfilled
Those eyes.. They said so much and yet there was so much mystery to them
Those eyes.. I don't know if I'll ever see them again
But I know I'll never forget them....

This is the journal of the dead,
The one that reads of misery and plight.
Pain, sorrow, tears un-wiped.
Will, I read it? Yes, I might!

He smiled and laughed through the unhappiness received,
He probably forgot that eyes could deceive.

He drank champagne till his empty heart-filled,
His soul wasn't empty, filled with guilt.

His skin was embellished with cuts and scars,
His mind within him ripped him apart.

He walked till the end, till the edge of every cliff,
Through paths lit with fires and lanes filled with pyres.

He waited for long and lost everything coming along,
Broken pieces un-joint, falling way behind time.

He cried and wept through every coming night,
Till his face turned pale and tears were denied.

He had to depart with a smile on his face,
It was finally the end, of an unendurable phase.

This is the journal of the dead,
Of the one that cried, but never lied.
Of the one broken, yet the one who never broke.
Of the one that died, leaving all behind.

A blue jay
Cries in deep background
of robin's qweedle day
A breeze moves the curtains slightly sun-
light scrawls
it's shadows
Soothing brighter
Lolling on a cushion
Late afternoon
of mourning dove
calls
to it's mate
meet her
on the edge of sleep