The Garden and the Rain

The green bushes along the rocky path,
Bench among the tiny stretch of grass,
Trees at the edge of the wooden fence,
The pond is filled with water from the rains.

I see the butterfly hovering on flowers,
And the birds chirping from the leaves,
While the grasshoppers hop on the lawn,
And there is the harbinger of rain.

Sitting on the bench, I watch the garden,
As I enjoy the serenity of the nature,
Who knew a storm was rising above,
Clouds turned dark, scaring away the dove.

Lightning rolls through the clouds,
Breeze turns into strong winds,
Shaking the giant trees at the edges,
I run for a shelter from nature’s rages.

Then clouds burst and a downpour begins,
Turning the arranged garden into a mess,
Watching, I wonder, does it take time,
For the rocky dry path to turn to slime.