Of lusty greens and meandering
meadows,
Of vicious blues high above
She ran among the lanes of high walls
Just as the crow of thirsty summers!
Wailing around like a whirling wind to
and fro she banged on to stop;
She moved through the paths in search
of peace to quench her thirst.
Yet she moved on till night fell on her
path,
She stood by the banks of a dead stream
looking high above to stars;
With wish in her eyes
She waited till midnight arrived .
A sudden drop touched her lips bewildering her!
Was it a dream?
She woke to see herself wet
The dead stream was still living!
The rains she wished for,
The rains she longed for,
The rains she loved.
The midnight sky was still young to
yearn her thirst ,to love her, to calm her
in her solitude.
Rain drops on her lips
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