"Mighty Monsoon" This season of torrential pour of pain Which blinds the nightingale's path, This dampy season of copious rain Which wets the wick of forecast The parting tears of a summer This season of rain, with the rhythm of water as a pursuit. Gentle hands of remembrance, hugging tightly on to my body Fingers are gripping away, while half way, in roiling wind A deep secret may being whispered To my ears by some benevolent one Some emotion unknown but, Much known than my whimper. Are shadows cast, along the valley of the blue night? At the door of a thought, did foot steps rise? Beyond the window, a dream, in The lightning and heaving rain, Drops will ding on the grass leaves on which this rain pours. This season of rain, with the rhythm of water as pursuit.