First Rains, First Hope…

A powder of blue was sprinkled on the sky where cottony puffs of clouds danced

To the errant breeze that could not decide whether to blow hard or be mellow.

The sun had dimmed his fire today; he seemed content to let the children play.

The meadow with its verdant hues of Jade was tranquil in the laziness of the day.

It laid out its wares of daisies, bluebells, peonies and petunias almost wistfully.

I sank into the warmth that the Lea offered. It was like a mother’s loving embrace.

I let myself be one with the Glade and inhaled the heady aroma of the petrichor.

Then stray winds picked up and blew from all across, undecided in their direction.

Their gentle wanton gait seemed almost languid until they picked up their pace

And blew harder across the meadow raising up, a maelstrom of leaves & petals.

I sat up and looked to the skies for it seemed like rain was imminent soon, again.

On my upturned face I felt the first drop if moisture, like a pearl it rolled down.

But it was not a stray drop for soon enough I felt the first sprinkle of misty water.

The fine mist gradually turned into a steady drizzle and wet my eager face.

I raised my arms, grinned gleefully and welcomed the first rains of the season.

Image via Pixabay

sonal singh

Sonal believes that life is a repertoire of anecdotes strung together in a colourful array,

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