The Monsoon Rainfall by YI JUNG CHEN

The raindrop falls on my hand,

deterring my thirst of reaching out to you,

the endless torture of

drowning by unpredictable surges.

An Acacia flower,

embroidered on my handkerchief,

a symbol for our unfaltering love,

was washed away by the river of no return.

Cars dashed through the puddle,

bringing my memory back to the moment of your departure

with a broken heart,

time never filled up the vacancy you had left.

Standing in the street,

my disheveled hair dances to rhythm of

the wild wind still howling,

incessantly and relentlessly.

Blue dyeing pattern of droplets,

converging and swirling into circles,

gathering our footprints together,

displayed the reunion of souls.