Misty day

I saw the translucent curtain. It is the rain.
Through the frosty misty window pane,
I saw vaguely the forestry and a green house.
The view calmed my mind.

Then I heard the roaring thunder from afar.
It echoed through the rain and amplified into my ear drums.
The howling wind and the splattering sound went on and off, on and off.
It's a master piece in total grey.

The scent of the raindrops united with the scent from the grasses.
They emitted a unique woody smell,
that cannot be seen by my naked eyes
but their presence I smell.

The grasses in the open field were soaked,
as they frozen and trembled in the pool of icy water.
The mimosa shy away and sealed up when the rain drops laid upon on them.

Their coats have been drenched.
The mynahs shivered,
then pecked their beaks into their coats to tidy up their fur.
They hid in a corner for some warmth
and waited for the rain to come to an end
but flew to a far away land, where there is no pain.

I walked back to my desk.
I realized I forgot my brolly in solemn black.
When will this rain stops?
When can I head off for home for a sip of warm soup?
My finger tips are cold
Typing away in this room, where all of them have left.
It’s just me and the rain.