In My Garden

The silk of the sunrays piercing through the mist,
And the flows of the rain drops from the heavens,
That sieve through the criss-crossed coconut leaves,
And weave a colorful tapestry on the bare ground,
And make me dream of you being here.

That little squirrel with its raised tail,
In the heavy down pour of the monsoons,
Tries a hideout in the caves of the guava stem,
And looks through its mystified crystal eyes,
And makes me remember your shy looks.

A pious white pigeon with bright red beak,
Drenched in the rain rests on the mango tree-top,
Willows and throws out pearls of rain drops,
Like the sun radiating its rays all around,
And makes me long for joy that emanates from you.