The wind carries with it an uplifting tune; let your hair dance to it. If petrichor can hold you locked onto the moment as streaks of light dispersed envelopes you – let it. Put on a performance. Smile. Thunderstorms will startle you.
**
(yes, you)
are my summertime joys
my box of mangoes with a crown
your smile, it curves
like watermelon slices;
you are sticky stains of kulfi
my sweet summer respite.
your voice
(a melody, a cacophony)
rising up to a cresendo
measured by the dancing hands
and the distances to beaches.
you are grains of salt
crafting my mind.
you’ve held my hand;
and scraped against neem trees
you radiate the morning glory
in tales of laughter and filter coffee.
you are familiar faces
— a collection of my places
**
Candles, talks, tales and people. Applaud.
Jumping Gene 
A poem before the calm that arrives after the storm i suppose! Lovely.
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Thanks! 🙂
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