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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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The ocean


 I look out from the deck

And enjoy the scene;

The mighty ocean stretching endlessly...

Not liking being stretched...

Constantly whimpering

In a loud silence;

Quiet

Yet very audible to a lonely listener

Who himself is in pain.

I look out from the deck

At the ocean;

Old

Because of the wrinkled water,

Young

Because the wrinkles move

Like one huge heart

With a subtle pulse...

That touches everything immersed in it;

Actually

Or metaphorically.









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