Rohit Nalluri

The rain is background noise
And the thunder front and center –
A stereo storm
Electrified
By bolts of blue lightning
Lashing,
Crashing,
Leaving midnight-blue gashes across the
Thin soundscape of sky.

The taut Earth,
A giant drum for the rain to count
Beats on;
Each raindrop a hand that weaves the beat
To the tune of an ancient song.
And through the cathedral-air
Of the echoing, energized air,
The deep cacophony of clouds clashing –
The lasso-sizzle of the birth of lightning, the thrum of the birth of thunder –
Echo as if from the
Cymbals of some
Buddhist God.

I am writing Haiku in the Storm.
Not very good ones too.
This is just something one does
When nature is loud and violent for a change
And the soul cowers in a corner,
Silent.

This silence seeps through my soul
Like rain seeps through
The porous earth.
I push my fingers through the liquid Earth
And they emerge from the mud, half-Sky, half-Earth.
I stand between the Sky and Earth,
Mute amidst their music-making.

If you listen closely –
You can almost hear the rain
Behind my words.