My Pug Marks

Image Courtesy: Self! :) a puff of invisible fume rising above like an unknown plume rickety in its path as it flows a cold wind freezes it mellow like a cotton ball grey and white flowing in sky's ocean in full sight in search of more of its kind to build and structure and bind like huge drums beating and streak of light falls back in a cold wet flight into the blue from where it came round and round to rise again

It rains. Washing things down. Putting dirt to rest. Paving new grounds. And a low far away grumble, Of the perturbed world's last fight, From the dark clouds oozes hope... For a determination, immovable and non stop. It rains. It rains to ferment action, From all and sundry, Atoning the sins of cryptic quandry. It rains. Yes, it rains - calming and slow, Not a loud trumpet, But a powerful majestic bellow. Alleviating anonymous thoughts of pain... Finally, it rains.