SINGING IN THE RAIN.

 Singing in the rain. 

I am singing in the rain

with the splash of those 

fresh sprinkles on my 

bag of the bones which was 

facing so much of strain

given by the very own home. 

I am singing in the rain

along with those blooming

flowers which was leftover 

all anhydrous and inanimate

as it was not showered with the 

fragrance of ardency and heed

from a decade. 

I am singing in the rain

along with those peacocks

who are moving feet and 

body to music in the 

mesmerizing range, who

were left high and dry all caged;

when the rain signed off from 

showering its generosity

with so much sudden change. 

I am singing in the rain

along with those 

rivers and lakes, 

which was portsided barren 

since age, biting the dust with 

thirst like my soul, which you

bandaged with your savage. 

Now, 

I am singing in the rain

simultaneously with those 

chirping birds and dancing trees

with paradise running

in my veins. 

because now i am off the hook

from that stinging cage, 

where i was clutched since

age kissing the genus of change. 

Ayesha Khalid