Since morn the rain has been
Weaving a pattern of love...it seemed
As if it fell on me being sent
By so many beautiful souls...
Living so near...
Some even traversed miles far...
I know...
Just like the clouds of late monsoon
Travelling acres of green...
And perhaps sands and snow...
I know...
O how much of love
You send...
This day...this moment...
Supercharging me...my every bit of nerve...my veins...
O how you fill me with a wonderous sense...
I cry...
And tears so happy
Never did I notice...
(And I don't unnecessarily lie...)
They come out flowing with so much of ease...
That I feel ashamed to wipe those drops...
I just let the rivery stream flow...
From my heart...to my toe...
As if I have been bathed
After a long gap of years...with the passion unsaid...
Now its my turn to give back...
Some thing at least...sure...
But what can I possibly give back?
I am turned such a debtor...
By you...your morning scraps...
Your evening pings...
Your noonday dreams...
And then I felt...
My hands trembled...
My heart throbbed...
From eyes water dropped-
In shapes of silvery beads...
And I know...
All these
Are just the rightest signs
Of giving you back all that is so far mine...
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