The Longing

The land and air all around us,
devoid of moist, cracked and dry.
Waiting for the rains to come,
to bid the summer good bye.

Staring for countless hours
at the clear skies, every day.
In the hunt for any allusion,
since I walked the demolt way.

Words were conveyed,
but was the feeling?
It makes me feel fret,
about, what's your thinking?

What holds you to reply,
is something I can't decipher.
Do I not hold good on your assay,
or still, am I a stranger?

In words what I could weave,
was only the mark of an etch.
One more chance is what I seek,
to open my heart's sketch.

I am curious to know, if you,
feel the magic as I do.
Knowing what makes you tickle,
will help me the way I woo.

I long for a response,
burning in great ardor.
As all wait for the fragrance,
of earth, soaked in vapour.

To quench the thirst of many,
when will the dark clouds arrive?
The ears are eager for the thunder,
for, we all need a reason to survive!