The last of the rains ...

THE LAST OF THE RAINS
You arrived riding a tumultuous storm,

In the months of your sojourn,
I've learnt to read your moods,
written in the winds and the clouds,
The sights and the smells ,
Of wet earth and blooming lotuses,
Blinding and stormy at times,
reminding one of one's insignificance,
in the grand order of things,
the melancholy that nostalgia invokes, the joys of old,
swept away, As if to make way for the new,
Calming and soft often,
Replenishing, steadfast , joyous
They tell me that you will inevitably depart,
 if I were to ask,
Would you tarry a while to share my confusions,
I need you to be munificent with your magic,
While I weave my tales,
Often to very illogical conclusions.
-vinny
21/9/2013