First, a drop
Then, another
Next comes a patter of rain drops
They tap lightly on umbrellas,
Slide off windows,
Creating a symphony of sounds
***
Then, as if the composer wrote in a caesura,
A gentle rest fills the air
***
Slowly, the conductor lifts their hands and the music resumes
In a second, adagio turns into allegro,
And Romantic to Baroque,
In the background there is a buzzing sound,
Serving as a drone,
Gluing the plain, black notes together into a colorful rainbow
***
One drop--the melody
A second--the harmony
It continues until it starts pouring,
Suddenly turning the piece into an impromptu
Fragile, dark, and flexible,
As if the rain was imitating Chopin
And just like the famous composer,
This song remains nameless
***
Da Capo-- time to start from the very beginning again
If you listen carefully,
Remove yourself from the cacophony of sounds
From the people around you and the vehicles roaming on the road,
And concentrate on the rain,
You can hear the rain singing,
A complete orchestra accompanying,
A serene piece,
Worthy of praise
And yet,
No one bothers to listen
And become the audience
And no one asks for an encore
A/N: "...As if the rain was imitating Chopin. And just like the famous composer, This song remains nameless" Chopin was a composer who lived during the Romantic period. Though he wrote many songs, he never named them himself.
YOU ARE READING
The World As It Is
PoetryLord, you say that heaven is more beautiful than this world we live in. Then, how beautiful is heaven? *** Poetry and Prose