Golden Shower

 

The Indian rain tree opposite our house.

The ripe leaves fall off the tree

In the air, the destination undefined

Yet the infinite wind blow

To keep it ground and far.

 

The falling leaves seems a blessing

On anyone under its tree

Perhaps, because these are mature leaves

Equivalent to be greeted by adults.

 

The leaves depart on a journey undecided,

Gives way to emerging shoots. 

Perhaps, because it is called Indian rain tree

It showers in golden yellow.