THE QUIXOTIC RAIN

There is incessant rain falling,

From pregnant dark clouds blanketing.

From puddles to rivulets they become brooks,

And gushes of white-water from collection of creeks,

Back to where it began the water keeps journeying.

There are flashes of lightening outside,

It’s the architect of darkness inside.

When the light goes out in sudden,

Darkness returns to incandescent and tungsten,

Halogen, fluorescent and iridescent on all sides.

There are people groping in the darkness,

A faint blue light from a gadget comes in fastness.

A flickering light on the matchstick follows,

And just when a candle is lit to light, though shallow,

Electricity returns all bright and glowing in vastness.

Sooner the candle is put out by someone blowing,

The wig begins emitting faint smoke flowing.

Then a flash outside brings about darkness yet again inside,

Darkness mocks at inhabitants quixotically from all sides,

And this time all stay still except for the sounds of rain on the roof; beating.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel

June 24, 2015 02:30 PM