Let's give it a Thought...

It talks to us with the impeccable thing Which is a genesis of communication, the feeling It generates the feeling by the music it has, By the rhythm it has, by its instruments I guess   A drop in my palm, the beauty of the rain, A drop on my head, the heat, the pain A rise of the orange, the hope of a better day, A looming of the black, the despair of making hay   A breeze during a walk, the softening of the worries A silence before its anger, a metaphor to breakdown of glories A red circle between the blues, a pleasure’s abyss and tranquility’s crevasse A wind in the solitary sands, the subtlety of lonely happiness   The steady gleaming of twinkles above, the exquisiteness of childhood bliss The overflow of its seasonal changing moods, adversity escorted by devil’s kiss The magnanimity of its forgiveness, the reason for survival of its dependants The timely display of its fury, reminding us of being forever its tenants   The ...