The thirsty cracked grounds Piling up of starved mounds All yearned, their tongues out For the taste of rain, thunderous sound
The flowers drooped sadly before this The green grass turned yellow and crisp All their colours were fading away Before you drenched them with torrential rain
So beautiful how the clouds meet with the faraway earth, watery greet So self-sacrificing how the skies cry To satiate their lover, the lands dry
Thus this reunion happens once more Each other's soul these lovers restore But are joined together only to be torn apart Poor cursed lovers, they're nature's art
Ah what selfless love is this! The skies die to give the lands a kiss And though they mayn't be together anymore Their aromas lay intertwined; petrichor
Petrichor (/ˈpɛtrɨkɔər/) is the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil