Melancholy of God

By Neethu Parvathy

Leather belt, Pearl snap fasteners, blue jeans, cowboy hat and boots

Laying under a giant oak tree rooted on the meadows of a green sea

The gentle hint of sunlight kisses your skin through chorus of greens

The barn is near, shiplap plank, bloomed red within a mirth of tall grass

The autumn breeze carries the moos of the cows on its buoyant waves

Clucking of chickens coalesce the vibrations of a chromatic harmonica

The sun ebb into darkness and the birds fly back home

Like tiny etches moving under the grey blotches of storm bearing clouds

You begin to wonder what home must feel like as you slowly empty thy self

Replacing it with the slinking nihilism, you are heckled by thunder

As the rain drops hit your face, you reinstate to the everyday false credence

That everything makes sense and that life is after all….Beautiful

Instead of feeling jittery, you enjoy the gradual downpour.

As the soil conceive the rain, it arouses the S tremptomycetes to secrete Geosmin into the atmosphere causing petrichor, reminding you of the fluid that runs through the veins of the Gods.

By Neethu Parvathy