the clouds bloom
like mysterious flowers
seeming  to survive by soaking up
the tears of the waiting multitude.
they churn the wind
causing it to blow through
my every cell
filtering through my every pore
as i abandon any hope
of maintaining some adult-like dignity
the puddles call
the rain falls
and i let myself go

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   10.07.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish