At times, tis an obliging muse,
For the budding poets and their poetic thoughts.
At times, tis a soothing music,
For the heartbroken to heal their hearts.
At times, tis a wonderful opportunity,
For the mischievous children for their innocent play.

At times, tis a timely boon,
For the hopeless farmers praying for rain.
At other times, tis a scary haunt,
Bidding forgotten nightmares to resurface.
At other times, tis an ugly landscape,
That makes you forget all that is pleasant.
At other times, tis a gaunt situation,
That makes you crouch down in fear.
At other times, tis the final bane,
That falls upon the battered plots of the farmers.

Ever changing,
Never the same,
Rain,

It falls upon Earth from heaven.

Written by: Mokshavi Gunasekera

Featured Image: https://shorturl.at/vDCUX