While the Rains Paused

Disturbed by the bizarre pause in the rains,

there, sits cascade of silence: strangely loud.

'Ears poked by silence to my narrow veins,

this silence says some things to me: so loud.

Unknown voices speaking from the inside;

feet of my thoughts straying to the yonder.

unknown pictures forming on the outside;

images and sounds; a merge of wonder!

The thunders regrouping for a war cry,

the clouds already tired from the short break,

silence hasn't finished: there is no time,

But he left a summary on my heart slate:

(stating)*

Poetry was life for the forefathers:

to live, you need to cherish it better.

(And the clouds gave its tears again...)