Rainy days

The raindrops run like glass chariots,
Racing their way across window panes,
Leaving behind trails of droplets,
To mark from whence they came.

Throughout the week,
The constant, incessant pattering,
On bus roofs and foyer canopies,
Like a thousand crystal cups clattering.

In a toast to the next season,
Heralded by the luminous archways,
That adorn the sky when the rain is done,
A promise of greener days.

(A late monsoon is happening now, and it is raining almost every day)