It’s a dark night,
The moon decided not to shine tonight.
Rain drops hit the tin sheets above my head with a drumming sound,
Drop by drop it tells the stories of the rain,
the moment is the rain
and at this moment it is raining.
Pouring thoughts like droplets in a sea,
Where if all our memories were ours to be,
Strings of knots and thoughts,
where I could think what you think,
and you think me,
if I could be you and you could I,
if I could be we,
then do you see the three?
you me sea and the tree
Turtles still climb the tree.
Do you see the fresh happy knots hanging on many dew drops of rain on a moonless Himalayan night?
It’s a rainfall of thoughts, lots and lots.
And I hear the last drop of the drum, it has stopped raining.
But the moon is still waning
It is yawning quietly curled in the corner of the night.