The Rhythm of the Rain.

Dr. Lakshmi Prasad Dhakal
Amsterdam, Netherlands

Early in the morning
Haste to catch a rapid train
With stealthy lust to be by the window
Greed to take a glimpse of the swallowing green
That flows far and wide
I take a sit beside a window of a rapid train.

The loud gossip
In a familiarising strange language
Yet the enthusiasm of morning show
In a train compartment gushed by huge
Schoolchildren bursting into laughter
Probably, a joy or memoirs
Yet, at distance a disturbance
Do I feel
Deviation from close
And distraction from a nearing touch
Near to expanding pastures
That stretches out and far flowing out of sight.

The train heeds hard forward
Hitting thick and heavy strings of falling rain
Splitting drops into tiny particles
Those shoot across the window panes of the train
Converting into a series of rainbows
An illusion, an ecstasy
Exultation and a feeling of rarity
Akin a sight of a shooting comet dropping down the earth.

When the rain falls hard on tender flowers
Of grasses on the sleeping land
They stand up and react to the falling rain
Calling for a civil obedience
Gesturing the logic of appreciation
No cruelty, no malice
Leaves swaying side by side
A gesture and a vivid call
To appreciate, to accommodate and
To take pleasure of universal language of nature.

Train traversed fast its destined route
Amidst shrill of harsh rattling noise
Children desert the busy train
Leaving the compartment to strange silence
Calling for thunder and lightning to take their toll
With umbrella, held high
Strange enough, I remain enjoying
Amidst all odds
The rhythm of the rain.

18 September, 2011
Amsterdam Central Station, by the side of diversion of North Sea

Tags: Dr. Laxmi Prasad Dhakal