Ascetic Rain and the Blue Mountain

Come down
Heavily
On the drop dead
Blue mountain
Up upon the seventh crest
The caressing sky
Whispering
In puffs of dizzy clouds
Meandering darkly
Through the moments of rain
Worldlessly as ever
Beating
In lapses of eternity
Of so many spangles
The leafy world
Listening
Chorus of lullaby
Symphony of windy breeze
Crying in bristles of thorns
At the foothill
Of the blue mountain
Submerged
In pressing rains
And spell-bounding grandeur
of the surrounding mist
Baring her sysmic breast
To root out the dust and ashes
Of the ascetic rains
Coming down
Heavily
On the dead drop
Blue mountain.