|Photo: Nostalgia by vijitapillai © 2016|
Gazing out the window, was never so hurting before -
disturbance that well the eyes and the heart roars,
a song of melancholy hums from within - -
no drop of hope the cloud gets; that could touch the skin.
Watching patterns of clouds in puddles was fun before,
tarred roads reflected on clouds today, making it look sore.
Wish of a selfish me, was to see the crying clouds,
I hoped to see the hope that wished me luck aloud.
... and then the drops poured down, in a gush to wet the ground,
a melting heart, emotions drenched, dry me, but wet surround.
I get to the edge, open windows, and allow the water in,
the body soaked and so the mind, in world of feelings akin - -
Moist soil brings to me memories of the days bygone,
for some time now, solitude is where I found the cozy zone.
I believe clouds wished the same for me, water trickle down my eyes,Earth rejoice the moments of now, while I celebrate past.
Nostalgia -by Vijita Pillai © 2017