When the Rain Came

monsoon metaphor

 

Monsoon rain came late this afternoon.

Thunder like a violent tune tore across the sky with lightning as partner in crime,

The dissonant harmony cracking the air,

Leaving the silence bare but for the patter of water in waves of volume,

Sideways in violence, reaching windowpanes, soaking parched thirsty earth.

Wandering wind sends its fingers gliding and grasping,

Shaping and making havoc;

Competing with the rain---

Who can last longer? Who can be stronger?

The green tenderness of young plants struggle to keep intact,

Packed in the soil their roots dig deeper, tenaciously  tethered,

Their destiny marked by the bloom of the next morning’s calm---

Sunflowers arrayed in yellow passion,

Lilly’s grace in lotus-like purity,

Poppy’s happiness in splashes of mirrored sunsets,

Passion flowers in desired beauty---

Victories few recognize.

Reviews

[dieuxsansculte]

Such a beautifully vivid tale of a storm's violence. You make the wind and rain almost come alive in your words.

I especially like your descriptions of the flowers you listed near the end:

"Sunflowers arrayed in yellow passion,
Lilly’s grace in lotus-like purity,
Poppy’s happiness in splashes of mirrored sunsets,
Passion flowers in desired beauty"

You might be interested to look at the one photo I have on my profile page.

Nice write. I really enjoyed it.

[Silent Lover]

Nice Sis :)

[nicolo]

I closed my eyes after reading this one. And t'was beautiful :)
This is good stuff. The aftermath of the monsoon.

[An owl on the moon]

Powerful visions that flow with the winds of the world. You paint these scenes to life with your letters, and make with dance in earth's beautiful grace.