Listening to loud warnings of clouds
waiting for them to pour their heart out and cleanse
I stand on the silent sand dune
taking in the angry view of the cottony, dark clouds
awaiting the murderous velocity of wind
to beat against my unfixed body
I steady myself against the gush of wind that tries to throw me off my feet
I spread my arms in the wait for my crucifixion
Over the roar of clouds I fix my ears to wind which blows whistling through my pores
My duppata shudders against my body trying to escape like a caged bird
Direct connection of heaven to earth, the thunder, in form of live cables marking their presence while graying everything in the background
water slap against my body with ferocity, puncturing holes through my soul
Soaking me from head to toe
A sudden calmness ensue midst this chaos of nature
like the thirst is finally quenched of the body or soul, I am not sure
But this is the moment of stillness in the middle of waving leaves, thundering showers and it grows and grows
Weeks later when one sunny day I pass by that same sand dune which suffered the wrath of weather with me that day
It is not the same
It has changed shape
It is beautiful than before with all new curves and vegetation and birds and butterflies
It's beautiful with the new creation
It's beautiful, surviving.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poems 2
PoetryI wasn't intending another Sad poems book but I find it hard to not feel the stories. I necessarily don't feel like that.
