The Monsoon Crescendo

The mist hangs low on the green mountains enveloping the lower ranges
making the undulating mountains look like islands floating in a soft white sea.
The mist soon advances towards the foothills bringing with it the susurration
of the soft showers on the grass, the flowers, the trees, the fields, and the rooftops.
When the mist passes by, swept along by the ice-cold breeze, the rain ceases.
Soon, the birds chirrup, warble, caw, and tweet, puppies and children scamper around
and jump into the shallow pools splashing droplets of joy onto themselves and each other.
Elders emerge to complete their chores before the half-light of the day disappears at sundown.
When the twilight dips, a steady low ‘trrr-trrr-trrr’ begins along with a set of eight high pitched
calls: ‘trri-trri-trri-trri-trri-trri-trri-trri’, an intermittent ‘cri-ca-cri-ca’ and  ‘cre-ku-cre-ku’;
the hollow and nasal ‘draun-draen, draun-draen’ and the shrill cries
of the night birds are the only exception to the steady cacophony.
The unrelenting crescendo of the unknown and unseen in the teeming earth!
When the mist is blown in again and it starts raining, all is quiet once more!
All of creation stops to listen, attentive to the soft drumming and pattering
of the rain, the calming pat-pattering on each stressed out, sentient soul!
~Dr. Elizabeth V. Koshy
Pune, India


  1. Hi Lizu really fabulous, I read it again and again looking forward for more of your wonderful work 😊

  2. Such beautiful poetry, my very best wishes and regards💐💐💐💐

  3. Sublime!💜