Poetry

When It Rains

First, the matching of waters
Then the earth takes a bath,
The roofs metamorphose into drums
Beaten; hard or soft as Eledua pleases.
The trees get drenched, and sometimes
fall.
The birds hide their wings, and men their bodies…
For what is to come is unknown
And when the rain stops…
The sun might peep
And the earth, gradually shakes of water
Men shall parade the streets again
And birds run the skies.
After the rain comes the sun.
So, be strong my friend
Be true to thy self;
The eagle is no pigeon
It is the rain that gathers all birds.


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