Tropical Magic

July 2, 2016

Miss Fickle Sky has changed color,

Yet again. Azure just minutes back,

She’s acquired a queer pallor.

Undecided on what to wear,

(Usually, she dons multi color)

Today, it seems that she wants to go

Like a pious mourner,

For the varied shades of gray and black.

She pulls on a billowing cape

Made of some dark cloud.

‘It still fits rather well!’, she thinks

Rather aloud.

Way below her residence,

(A high rising one, I must say),

A ragged man, scorched by the sun,

Looks up at the sound.

The thunder that made the wrinkled eyes

Twinkle with hope,

Though crass and loud to us,

Is music to the half-torn soul.

He’s been waiting for that melody

He’s been waiting with bated breath

He’s been waiting for the heavens to sing

Since the cruel sun pushed him half to death.

He now gives a joyous yelp.

He’d dance if he knew how.

He dashes to his house to tell

His own, what he heard just now.

And then they all come out and sing.

They’re smiling after a year.

They know now who is coming.

The happiness is too much to bear.

She hears the commotion down below

She smiles within.

For her to hear these happy sounds

A year, it has been.

She knows she made the perfect choice,

Of donning the black cape today.

She knows she needs to leave; she can’t

Hold them up longer, anyway.

You go on, you black clothed angel,

Bring smiles and light hopes,

Bring back the vibrancy of your seekers.

I will not hold you back anymore.

Who says there is no wonderment

To be found in life?

I think I’ll sit in my balcony

And watch your tropical magic unfold!

godess 3









9 thoughts on “Tropical Magic

  1. It’s great Divya. I used to see rain as a mundane thing until you showed me the magic it brings with it.
    Your writing is out of the world. I love to read your blog. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

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