NaPoWriMo 13 : Petrichor


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Velleka in the rain                                                   Pic credit : Reenaprasad

Scent of renewal 

 

Somewhere when it rains
a boy runs barefoot to a stream
A page is torn
and he beams at his little boat
pirouetting
to overcome a mound of roots
that threatens its passage

It breaks free
and bobs merrily for a while
enjoying the bumpy ride
till the rain plays traitor
and wets its fragile insides

He shouts with glee
insistant that all should leave 
their irrelevant preoccupations
and come to see his warrior ship
fighting the elements to the death

Few bother to
They smile indulgently
and rebuke him gently
for abusing the hallowed notebook
not seeing
the greatest lesson that he would ever need
was being taught by the stream, the boat
and rain

forever to be remembered
rising from within him as petrichor
when in another time, place or season
he the boat, would move in circles
without rhyme or reason
unable to see the drift of things

Then the rain would come
drenching his arid mud
with the reassuring scent of a land 
forgotten
and he would find the notebook again
and tear off another page
©Reena Prasad

 

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NaPoWriMo-7 Summer Rain


NaPoWriMo-7

Summer Rain

I would have loved for us to defy death
the way poems do
springing out from paper graves

Once they have burnt me to ash,
released this trapped bit of air
stowed you safe under a hefty stone
and left the world to us

unchaperoned
our wild selves free
to meet

let us

lie over your headstone
snow-fetti melting from your shoulders
and from my hair
-remanants of our clinging winter
the warm rain singing a frantic refrain
of our desperation, deprivation
and final damnation

Let us
begin another summer
bring on a pagan rain

But you never came
for on this driest patch of sand
my heart has been conjuring up gleaming shells
Their glitter unshed in my eyes while I wait
for the cease of the merciless roar
of an endless summer rain
©Reena Prasad

Winter rain


Rain in Sharjah
Rain in Sharjah
Rain drops on window panes, sliding down till they burst into millions of smaller droplets. A pigeon sits all fluffed up to combat the cool breeze. Winter has arrived overnight, transforming the landscape completely. A pale sun peeps from behind the dark masses of clouds as they form a fleece blanket around him. The floor is icy cold, so is the sofa railing. Despite having plugged and sealed all crevices in a bid to keep summer from leaving, winter has ambled in nonchalantly adding lots of zest and freshness to cosy, complacent lives. Proper rains after two whole years ! We are celebrating here!

 

One rain


As you walk in tonight’s mellow rain,
those wistful drops drip upon my shores
See each one burst into a thousand more
for hope could not remain confined to just one.

Will it remind you of another night
of a shared walk in the frazzled moonlight
when a fragile smile cracked into a thousand tears
for an ache could not be confined to just one?

Maybe it rains somewhere every night since that one
but the seasons have been gentle upon your heart
The familiar colours have dispersed into a thousand rainbows
for love could not perhaps be confined to just one.
©Reena Prasad
(published in “With Love” xpress publications) 2013

Drop of life


 The ghostly figures wait
 A skeleton canopy
The birds have left long ago
The stream is a sandy bed
where a discarded snake skin gleams
a reminder that life has slithered on
leaving imprints in the dust
Trees stands bemused caught in a maelstrom
of swirling hot air currents
leaves have fallen off without any storm
A brown carpet hides a raging thirst
Pleading branches shorn of any splendour
try to reach out to a passing cloud
that wanders lost in the barren sky
-a lone traveller with a thirst of its own
it carries the pictures of the barren earth
to the mountains where the rain god sleeps
forgetting to water his potless trees
wake him up, ‘o’ cloud
for there waits a seed
in the throes of heat
for a drop of water
to welcome life.
©Reena

Does it still rain?


They touched everywhere, those cold drops

A wet afternoon shivered at the onslaught

Drops falling in showers at a faint nod

Drops cascading over trembling thoughts

 They fell till every doubt was drenched

they kept falling till the rain felt right

A gentle drizzle had started at night

Now it lashed the path right out of sight

Water sloshing across the busy street

driving the crowds to drier retreats

Perhaps it was a pact earth made

with the matchmaking monsoon breeze

Nothing can wait when nature conspires

to break the barriers, to thaw the freeze

It rained till there weren’t any dry nooks

till rain became a gurgling song of a brook

The glistening road, the sprinkled flowers

A bridal bed with the fragrance of petrichor

leaving them almost baffled at the ease

heavens opened up to let the lovers meet

A rippling raindrop trembles on an evergreen leaf

and I see it burst into a thousand dreams.
 ©Reena Prasad, May 2012