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Saman Badam Mar 29
There comes a hush with grumbling, rumbling sound—
Through skies, from highest clouds of charcoal gray,
While forest drapes like maiden's debut gown,
On swelling winds—a taste of dampened hay,
As jasmines shiver, full of haste and play,
The buttercups then blend in bluebell fields,
While parched earth, in thirst, to heavens pray,
The water lilies bloom, and lotus shield,  
While gardenia and tuberose nectar yield.

Those armored hermits peek above, so sly,
While wrigglers writhe from homes beneath the ground,
And quiet buzzards—silent shelters seek,
The red and tiny soldiers surround
Their hill before the floods come crashing down.
There goes the sun to hide behind the clouds,
Like shyest child behind her mother's gown.
The clouds eclipse the sky like mountain's shroud,
How I have waited long—for petrichor, thy crown!

The first then falls—so delicate this drop,
Like chiming choir of creation, its fall,
So, earth then sighs its prayer in backdrop.
Like divine dance of Lord from heaven's ball,
To fill the world as seraph's colours, fall.
The peacocks twirl in iridescent trance,
While swallows dive and egrets skim and roll.
Like scattered jewels, shooting down to prance,
The first of vernal rain bestows a second chance.

At drip-a-drop they form a symphony—
Like rolling sheets of highest paradise
Conjoined the deepest hells invisibly.
For once, then twice, and lastly falling thrice
In festive thrum of fervent drums, they rise.
Like sapphires falling down from onyx sheets
Of darkened skies, so measureless in price.
The merchant clouds to earthly rivers greet
And ply the blue and pearly wares from angel's fleet

Like clouds, the puddles spread across the land,
The sky's reflection cast upon the earth,
These puddles overflow as bubbling bands
And streams like argent ribbons, gurgling mirth
That stitch themselves from flash of thunder's lurch,
Like melting hymns upon the mount and vales,
And washing tales from stones about the dearth.
Then sleeping beasts so churn across the dales,
Like witches' inky cauldron full of silent wails.
Sorry for the break guys, was working on a side project and was burnt out.
Maryam Mar 23
Is the rain falling where you are?
Can you see the bright full moon?
How far are you from me?
Miles and miles... too many to count.
Can you smell the salty sea?
Can you feel the cool night air?
Do you feel this heavy sadness,
when the rain won’t stop, like I do?
Nisan 2024|
Let me tell you about that night
When the moon hadn't been high.
The clouds were all set around
Making a path, at the center, for luna to lie.

The clouds became blue,
The stars were blocked.
In time, rainfall came though,
In mid October, as we talk.

The date had been wrong,
My calendar was torn.
Clouds' inspirations prolong,
A raincoat I had worn.
It was a wrong night,
An incorrect date was recorded.
The reader questioned the journal's insight.
The story had long been discarded.
Winter Mar 10
Rainy days are Earth's custom.
Heaven's cry and soak into my skin...
like leaves on the trees around me
I sigh in green gratitude.

Smells permeate the downpour...
a wild refresh. Aromas of
lemongrass, eucalyptus & wood-soaked oak
I breathe in thankyous.

Then, when the softest light emerges
from behind the clouds,
blue skies remind me of what it feels like
to be free.
Monsoon season in the rainforest
Nickols Oct 2023
You smell like pure warmth, sweet and heady, like a muggy summer night just after a heavy rainfall; earthy. A wet cedar, woody scent with an undertone of citrus. You smell of home, a sheltered blanket of safety.
Thomas Steyer Jul 2021
I looked out the window, goodness me
torrential rainfall in Germany

on the TV a reporter said
people are missing, many are dead

aerial views of the devastation
leave no room for the imagination

they show the extend of the flood
which left the area covered in mud

horrendous stories and detailed accounts
explain what happened and no one doubts

this is a direct result of the climate change
experts say, it's neither surprising nor very strange
It is as if a wave of tranquility passed over me this morning. Still numb. However, the strenuous longing to feel has dissipated. The wounds have be temporarily cauterized. No empty pain lingers in the darkness like a phantom menace. I felt nothing before, But I knew I was in pain. Now the nothingness consumes any lingering obscure thoughts. I am the hollow man; Such a fragile shell I carry on burden bones. But tis a pleasant day indeed. Thunder storms barrage the sky in open warfare and ominous tear drops soak the battlefield. For once I am not the fool weeping alone; The world takes my place, my pain, my suffering, and I revel in the warmth of it's tears as any good sadist does.
Poetic pros I write in my journal that I reveal to the world in snippets.
Hadrian Veska Aug 2020
Thunder and rain
Dark clouds roll over the earth
Not quickly as in a storm
The heavens stand almost still
The rain not slanted but straight down
No lighting but only thunder
So much known to now be lost
Most of it for the better
For knowing all evil
Only multiplies evil
And the deep truths
Obscure the simple ones
Let the rain come
To wash us all away
That those who come after
May be better than we
Though it is not intended
Nor can ever been
Until all things pass away
Candented Aug 2020
I usually write when it's raining
When it's raining I'm usually right
Wrote my heart on my sleeve while complaining
When and why weave the unknown archane art
Without measure of meaning or pleasure
Above and beyond anything we thought
Outside of the encircled we're drawing
With all wonder as is fervantly caught
Bringing forward a motion of knowing
Beyond knowing mercy as serverity's stair
Reunification of all being
Exhalation from and into the aer
Dancingraindropsacrossaparkinglot
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