The Symphony of Raindrops

A cloud split open, soft and gray,
Its tears descending, finding their way.
Each drop a note, a fleeting sound,
A symphony born where earth is found.

The first drop falls on a mountain high,
A crystal chime as it whispers by.
It taps on stone, a bell so clear,
Echoing tales of the atmosphere.

Another falls on forest green,
A gentle thrum, a pulse unseen.
It slides down leaves in soft ballet,
Singing songs of life’s bouquet.

A tiny drop on a river wide,
A pluck of strings in the water’s tide.
The current takes it, a violin’s sweep,
A melody born in the river’s deep.

On desert sands, the rain does land,
A hushed staccato, soft and grand.
Each grain absorbs its fleeting kiss,
A rhythm of longing, an arid abyss.

The ocean greets the drops with glee,
A roaring bass, wild and free.
The waves swell high, the thunder booms,
In the sea’s embrace, the music looms.

In city streets, the raindrops play,
A symphony born of the urban day.
On metal roofs, a tinny tone,
On cobbled paths, a muted moan.

Each drop connects, a note, a line,
Together they form a grand design.
No single sound can stand apart,
For harmony thrives in a beating heart.

A farmer hears the patter’s song,
A hymn of hope where drought was long.
A child laughs as puddles sing,
A splash, a cheer, the joy they bring.

The symphony swells, it ebbs, it flows,
A story of life in its highs and lows.
Of love, of loss, of dreams reborn,
Of sunlit days and rainy morns.

For even the smallest drop of rain
Holds the world within its frame.
A tear from the sky, a whisper, a plea,
A note in the song of eternity.

The clouds retreat, the music fades,
The world stands still, the storm abates.
But deep in the soil, the roots will know
The symphony lives where the raindrops go.

Each leaf, each stream, each grain of sand,
Has played its part in nature’s band.
And in their union, a truth is found:
Even the smallest voice resounds.

- Khushi Kaul