Monday, 11 June 2012

From One Monsoon to Another

(A poem dedicated to my friend, The Viento)

He wrote a piece about the rain,
when it was still afar.
His voice wasn't heard,
o'er the din of the lives,
of the great mean walking past.

Thus silenced he spoke no more,
and went away to an unknown land.

Come monsoon came no one,
to welcome it that year.
There was no one to sing its praise,
to shed a handful tears.

And then the people,
unable to write,
in the praise of the rain itself.
Wrote in the praise of the man who was,
lost in the rain,
a true son of rain herself.



  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. it is of the very best.......
    So you remembered......:).....yes i almost gave up.....

    Thanks for keeping it alive....

    The Viento

  3. Dude, is it you Dreamer? I mean it is not long. Haha. It is very different from your style and it is true. Viento, I have always related him to rain, this poem does actually make you picturize him. Keep the blog alive!!!

    (Gives me immense pleasure to write Natasha after such a long time.)

  4. :) :)

    Nice .....

    Natasha,nice to see your name in the blog again...!!

    The Viento