\begin{Rain}
{
I see the rain water gushing down the street,
On the curb, by the pedestrian path;
At times, many a stream converge.
Does it have a heart of its own
I constantly yonder.
For the brook seems to know
Where it has to go.
}

{
In same vain,
Do the big bipeds
And insects,
Birds and fish,
Know where they
Go in life ?
But then,
What defines life?
}

{
I see many young women
Plump and thin
Shaking their bodies
In a rhythmic fashion.
A big black man with broad & wide shoulders
Keeps these disciplined souls
As in a yoke.
I shall be amazed by
The obedience of these girls to their master.
}

{
The brook and I,
Pass by many bodegas,
Which is regularly visited by
its favourite customers;
They serve fried chicken and beer
And coxinhas too;
The telly goes on in the background,
To add narrative to an otherwise dull atmosphere.
}

{
I look at the sky and see the clouds congregate
Do The clouds too have a heart I ponder.
For they seem to coalesce and disperse
In a conversational manner.
Like two ants meeting at a junction.
Like two neurons at their synapsis.
Like two soldiers assembling at the borders
For a war.
}

{
Here and now,
I see a massive lightning.
Perhaps that is how
Celestial bodies
Communicate.
The thunder
Representing the hulabaloo
Of the speakers.
}

{
At last, the ambiance was still.
Nothing moved;
The sedentary palm
In the corner or
The molecules in air.
People crisscrossed
The corridors,
To break the ennui.
}

{
The palm inside a building
Never smells the air outside,
The palm outside was joyfully
Jostling its leaves.
They stare at each other.
Will they ever get together.
I wonder.
}
{
We see birds and insects,
Dogs and cows,
But I always wonder,
Where do they go
To die.
Who mourns for them?
Will the mother bird come back
To feed the chicks?
}
\end{thought}