Ayush Baweja, Class IX G
The thunder shakes me to the bone
Below me sits a man alone,
In no hurry, the man is,
No thoughts of others, in the joy of his.
Cars fleet past,
Like ships of mast,
Waiting for when the rain,
Will stop at last.
I hear birds chirping,
Hidden in disguise,
I feel the smell of the earth,
Slowly rise.
In the sounds,
Voices drown
Never to be heard,
Never to be found.
Wispy air surrounds me
Rain falls soft on the trees
The sun glistens through the dew.
Seven colors through the sky,
The thunder, no longer does it cry,
Quietly, the winds begin to die,
And slowly the Earth starts to dry.
