Pluviophile + Bibliophile + ‘Coffeephile’

Imagine this. Post- terawih,  it’s raining at night in the blessed month of Ramadhan.  Imagine lying in bed with a book and an aromatic cup of steaming hot coffee by your bedside. Imagine that.  A bibliophile-pluviophile like me think that this kind of moment is perfection personified. 



Whenever it rains, I think of You.

Whenever it rains, missing You I do

Not that I don’t think of You often anyway,

Not that I won’t miss You on any other day,

But when it starts to rain,

When the breeze clears the pain.

At the first touch of the raindrop,

At the first caress of wind ruffling my top

My head swims with You in my thoughts

I want to shout; on top of my lungs

Of my love for You; fiercely sprung.



What is it about the rain,

That makes me think of You more,

More than ever before.

The pain so poignant, so raw,

The ugly memories previously in a shroud

You wash it away with the water from the cloud

You give me a fresh, clean, brand new start

That has nothing to do with putrid flesh and blood.



What is it about the rain,

The serene picture You paint

Of riches being dropped from the sky

To remind us that we can’t deny,

Of the blessing for all creations,

That You bestow without questions.



What is it about the rain,

The Majesty of You…

The Mercy of You…

Your Bounty…

Your Generosity…

The Splendor…

The Grandeur…

That energizes my soul

That makes me whole

So that I bow my head low

My gratitude for you in show

You are the Greatest of all,

Allah, Allah, Allah.


-Afiza Azmee-

P/S: This was composed a few years ago on a similar night like this.

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