Monsoon balcony

Black glass on the horizon, smoky blue across the city

The old posters get wet in the falling wind.

Standing on the railing, the raindrops can be counted,

Each drop is like a small memory.

The distant golden glow of the rickshaw bell,

The smell of raw earth blooms on the wet ground.

Instead of the sun, a soft shadow appears,

A silent sparrow sits on my shoulder.

The cup of tea is warm, steam clings to the lips,

A dim light shines through the window.

There is no hurry, the clock has stopped in my mind,

Stopping this for a moment is the biggest task of the day.

Silence will touch my body at the end of the monsoon,

I will wet the paper and write a line

“As much rain as it takes, so much is the world.”