My Monsoon

And the night begets more rain
rays of stark dark water
The shoots of life
Descending
With little gusto
To meet muddy ends
Sinking hope of life in earth again

Patter prevails
Ennui ensues
And obliterates
Something of the
Lighter notes
of my being
The fetid smell of me
tired beyond a freshing recourse

But shortly I am refreshed
Its the same patter that revives
And fills the heart with happiness
And now I think
You can take all the sunsets by the shore
Valleys like of Paradise itself
Rolling meadows and dales
Snowcapped mountains and all
That is deemed most beautiful

And yet cannot for me match
the sounds and smell of the monsoon
When it finally arrives
bearing down on my doors and windows
Forcing itself in every crevice it can find
To water my soul and nourish my mind

Quateel Ahmad