Waiting for Rain.

Missed the rain perchance,

though dejected,

hope gave a glance.

Only felt the remnants of rain,

but it was the wind that healed the remaining pain.

The plantpots rejuvenated for the moments of future,

and the leaves experienced the fresh breath of nature.

I sat there waiting for the rain,

and felt that there was nothing to gain

but met with serendipity, bewildering my stains.

The skies tinted marigold,

was enough for my soul to be sold.

I was still patiently waiting,

waiting for the rain,

but now I wasn't afraid of losing it again.