Are these the April raindrops,

Or my lingering heartbeats?


My naked windows glasses-

Alive with transpirations

Mired with perspirations

Reflecting back, almost in derision

Calling back, in much anticipation

Halting path, amidst

many a assumption


These sounds of cascading water

On my swarded Astorian apartment

Catch me off guard-this very moment


Immerse in me, in life--

Even as I dwell in apprehension

Succumb to intoxication

Of increasing aspiration

Drain in imagination

Of the ongoing revolution


Will the rain just vanish all too soon

Lambent lightning will too swoon


Life is measured in moments -- not years

Its prizes are not won in competition

Nor in forms of pricey acquisition

As I hear the raindrops in reverberation


Memories of Similipal, ere a score of monsoons

Wise father, tall trees, and proud mountains


The source of wisdom--

my admiration

To repose faith in my fascination

And give way to my adulation

Sans preaching or imposition


Raindrops don't just recline

on my windows

Nor merely thump on my bare chest

They form an occasional abyss

To draw me to where I will rest


I drown in thee, every now and then,

To be swept across the life I possess--

A gift of maternal affection

And mother nature's articulation

Akin to rain, our founts quite unknown

Awaiting eagerly for loving absorption

Into history of time and

this living condition

Else this restless life is merely an omission


Time will never stand still,

therefore I must

To be one with, what I might have lost

And seek those moments that always a bliss

Transient like raindrops, and forever I miss

 Find us on facebook: facebook.com/TheThumbPrintMag