Why does it rain?

Why does it rain?
The dyes of earth
Dry and parched,
Like a voice sans mirth
Arid and barren
Like a scorching hearth
Wait for the heavenly drizzle
To paint the picture
Of fertility, of birth
In lovely water colours

Why does it rain?
Like mortal men
In these transient spheres
Drops die.
Pierced by solar spears,
They ascend to heaven
And are reborn as tears

Why does it rain?
The gods of war sitting above
Observing, watching men’s world
Jealous of the lovers’ love
Sprinkle water in their vain abuzz
To put out the sacred fire

Why does it rain?
It is the wine that drops
Which the divine hands of Muses design
To refill the hearts of men
Which as empty ewers
Wait for this poet’s wine

M. Awais Aftab
Published in today's Poet's Corner in Us magazine


Momal said…
Lovely :)

Awais said…
Lolz. Thank you so much Momal.
The icon is brilliant. :)