Night Rain

its a beautiful night.....

where is the moon and stars?

clouds did u hide them from me?

oh you wind..

why are you waving fiercly?

now that i m listening to u

the tiny miny droplets of rain

how did u learn the music?

love works in mysterious ways and friendship courts the night ... rain

brings waves of cleaning and renewal to the face of life

rain can bring freshness into extinct hearts

revitalising thoughts in a positive way

rain can wash away all those negativeness

just like as if nothing happened ever

oh that wind that drags the rain across the sky

daring all who get near to feel the utter darkness that lies within

whipping the world into a vortex of feelings and emotions

bringing lost and lonely souls to the apex

swirling them in a flow of retrospection

in search of a brighter light of hope

to find ways to escape to a shelter

where peace is awaiting to heal them

drumming rain drenching the world in colors

colors of brite and light matching piece by piece

into the darkness of night ... falling falling

unsure and unattached falling .....

when seen with heart,even in darkness

one can see those beautiful color fall

as if its a heavenly flourishing of blessings

for giving salvation to every molecule of nature

souls peek from behind the fast moving clouds

feeling the rain .... dreaming of life

hope and happiness

may this rain bring resounding magic

spreading waves of happiness all across

changing the way life looks like

a welcome change for the lost souls

This poem is written in association with my friend Katyayani.We had great time in writing this more of an interactive poetry. Images thanks to farm4.static.flickr & ikigaiway

Read more poems of creative poets at monday-poetry-potluck-kings-queens- . Thanks :)

Theatre of my dreams

Sitting at the small gallery

In that old football ground

Where anyone hardly play football

Still only cricket dominating

With number of pitches at different spots

Fielders everywhere waiting for their respective balls

Watching those old trees with beautiful flowers

Memories run back as if to catch the past

I found a small guy who used to watch curiously

From the bus stop, at those playing in the middle

Dreaming about playing someday there

Hitting the ball out of the ground like them

He saw so many battles out there

Sitting underneath those big trees

Without worrying about scorching sun

Or drizzling rains.

Numerous hilarious moments

Serious debates with total strangers

And those silly fights with the people

Numerous friends he made from there

From being a spectator to some one in the middle

Years went so fast, huh still

Days of bunking in search of playing time

Comes so fresh in mind

Some passion kept him going

Forgetting everything while being there

Now more of a philosophical refuge

To go some time and to sit

Then watch youngsters playing around

Reliving those tense moments in the middle

But now there is no familiar faces around

Only those big trees, the park, the skating ring

And the temple saying hello to him

As if, they were old friends