Bibekanand Shah
The voice of the rain
Came again and again
And made a chain
Of music in my brain.
The music fired there
And beat a drum to cheer
Each cell started chilling
The body began thrilling.
And the feet made steps
The mouth meowed raps
All organs took their chance
And in joy, they all danced.
The choirs of the raindrops
Pulled me into their groups
And I went among them
And drenched, being the same.
Now, both we sang, all along
And I was a drop in the throng
The rain rained, stole all stain
There was love; absent was the pain.
