Monsoon At Prantik Asylum Poem by Mandira Mitra

Rain clouds gather in the sky
Like stalkers in silent consensus.
Grinning, communicating eye to eye
Crouching for you
To sail into a collective view.
Hold your sighs, droplets
Touch whether you will or no
Tentatively and then with assurance
Without reason or sense
Permitting neither retreat nor bent
In seeking words or consent.
Enjoy the shower since it is inevitable.
Once they are done,
Watch the sulk of twilight
Fade from your cell and await the night.
Tune your insane ears to the ringing
Of Water
Obeying summons of subterranean beings.

They teach you the art of living.