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Theme : Love
Monsoon Mist

Like the last spell
of receding rains
your memories have returned.

Moist clouds smear the sky
like condensed steam
set on cold glass
in illegible script.
Could they be a train of thoughts?
Or, bizarre shapes of illusive want?

From the peak of summer
till the first showers
I waited for the weather
to tell
which way it was going -
a deluge of emotions
or a drought of warm words.

But the clouds, as always,
were flippant.
Floating errant desires,
out of reach from earth.

The day you smiled at me
I could hold them
in my grasp.
The day you left
they slipped from my fingers
like raindrops.

I cannot read the clouds any more…
Go monsoon…

Leave me with a clear sky!  

– Dr. Uma Asopa
August 14, 2005

 
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