It is

I think it’s the most vulnerable
Time of the year,
When the raindrops
Hit the window pane sheer.

I glance at the old town road,
Until all my worries; they dissapear.
Glued to the dark clouds,
Excited by thunder, which seems loud.

A wish upon the everlasting drops
To wash away the storms
Which still remains in my eyes,
To wash away the darkness
Which still makes half of me everyday,
To wash away the uncertainty
Which still persists now and then.

But to let me be and let me breathe

These raindrops they remind me of
What I used to be
They stay with me
They follow me
Into who I will become
It is the raindrops
It is and
It will always be…

Nidhi Parikh