Drizzle of the monsoon on drought-ridden skin
Washes down brown barren leaves from my lips
To strum through my days, new sonatas on flute
That swell to the call of coal-coloured clouds
In raptures of notes unexplored.
Tracks that had grown all gravelled till now
Are stitched into patterns of sprouting new grass
Even as ducks and geese paddle forth
On ponds that are drummed with harmony of hearts
In these our days full of dimples on earth
That bubble with hymnals from choirs of toads.
Puzzled by joy, I wonder and watch
A world that is buzzing with news of our date.