Busy sky

It’s sometime since the sky spoke

I ask of him his whereabouts

Being reluctant to speak

he mumbled

‘its in rains that I am most busy’

there is life to bloom

ponds to fill and pain to erase

I have to watch the raindrops

as sometimes she, the earth

is too fragile to hold my love

she never sheds a tear or lets out a murmur

her quickening breath or her sweating forehead

is my cue to hold, release and let go at times

besides, there are her children who look to me

in hope , despair sometimes in love or in prayer

I am here, there and everywhere

and its best that you walk to me

than I come to you

besides who knows what you can hold?’

He laughed loudly.

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