When rain is of the last alphabet of June
Nothing remains in surface.
Words nor silence..
When someone empties a basket full
of dark clouds in the ocean,
Life changes the passwords of heart
To protect from ruthless predators
What happens outside
Appears to be a canvas of illusion
From the kingdom of creator,
June writes like the last sage of the season,
Plays like a school kid in the next moment,
Smiles at the vast universe,
Nature has a language
To speak for each season
The rhythm, the melody, the roar,
Resplendent!
Somewhere in the memory line,
BY Rema Pisharody