Hour 23: Missing the Rain

The sight of raindrops soothes the nerves,
like the blissful smile of someone dear.
The petrichor of soaking pain down the earth,
To the parched and dead.
The feel of droplets pounding the bare skin,
Some bouncing back,
like the goodbyes of dear ones.
Some missing the hit,
like the unrequited love.
The sound of dropping rain, the first to greet.
Deferring the first sip of coffee,
Punctuating a book left open.
Evoking senses so heartfelt.
A sensation that yearns for more,
A thirst that satiates one and all.
Cleansing every part of body and soul.
It is a sustenance, a need of the hour.
How I miss the drizzles and downpours,
Like the love at first sight,
of a love so deep-dyed.

Snigdha

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