A Tank Or A Spring..

The earth has become moody, Starts to weep slowly and then loudly, Sending the blinding waves of obscurity, Pouring the shimmering tears of nobility, Running over the bosoms of greenness, Filling the deep valleys of catchment, Still not pacified, not paused, but cried, Her heart out, the friend wind has arrived, Tries to pat her on the side, Scares her with his whistles, running after her with all his desires, Uproot her saplings as the last step, She is silenced for a while, As the cloudy water tank of her emptied, If thinking of a spring in the clouds, Thinking of a spring in our woes, Thinking of a spring in our joy, Thinking of a spring in our success, Everything will be in excess, So we are blessed with a tank of emotions, To fill, disperse and refill, to keep us all occupied and awake.