Petrichor : The smell of rain and good times by Tanyaa,15, Kolkata

My eyes light up as the world turns dark

My spirit and the sky in stark contrast

I never minded the rain, be it a drizzle or downpour

Be it a murmur, a whisper or a deafening roar

Of rain that not only washes away the dirt

It washes my worries and washes the earth

I walked to my window as my worries wore off

As they dripped down my legs and onto the floor

I tiptoed stealthily to my window sill

With coffee in my hands, brewing hot still

Curled up against the glass ice cold

As I sip, the liquid burns in my core

The drizzle now turns into a storm

Thunder and lightning now tag along

I count the seconds by which they’re apart

The sound of the claps warming my heart

The sound infiltrating deep inside my soul

The sound filling me, making me whole

The sound better than meditating, putting me at peace

The sound which can make all thoughts cease

Currents of driving rain come down in blocks

The streets flooded, drains now clogged

Much unlike my thoughts- trickling back

As through the clouds slowly sunlight cracks

The sound of drizzle now changes to chirps

The moment I’ve been longing for, the smell of dirt

I watch yet happily as the gray turns to blue

All the pieces of my heart, the rain had glued

A gentle smile crosses my face

As I’m carried to a special place

The smell of petrichor brushes past

As lightens the foreboding gray overcast

Petrichor- such a pretty word

A word that I’m pretty sure I’ve heard

What it meant now I know

As the raindrops now dry against my window