The Voice of Petrichor

 

I opened my window after a deluge; the sky swarmed with swarthy clouds,
The verdure glistened, the breeze capered ‘n cavorted, richly endowed.

The earth sighed, soaked under a shower of iridescent drops.
The petrichor emanated, deep from its very core, gliding overtop.

I asked the slight, placid being, “And, who could you actually be?”
Remarkable it may sound, she sat by my side ‘n calmly resolved my query,

I’m the voucher of an amorous liaison,
When the rain dropped down with unbridled abandon,
forsaking poise ‘n grace,
The earth clasped it to its bosom, entwined it in a passionate, heady embrace.

I’m a melody of mellifluous longing,
A sign of impetuous departure, the fragrance of the long, lost love,
The essence of a thirsty yearning soul, ardently gazing at the sky above,

I’m the redolence of a spirited promise.
Not the forever kind, not for eternity— they don’t matter somehow,
But of everything in the lovers being, the promise of their ‘now.’

I’m petrichor, the aroma of the earth’s gaiety ‘n satiety, it’s transient ecstasy,
A fading, withering memory, a wistful, haunting dream, a dainty, sublime legacy.

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