Summer Rain in Pakistan

In the heart of the sun-baked land,

Where dust swirls in the golden light,

The skies break open, weeping softly,

A silver veil in the deepening night.

The earth, parched and cracked with thirst,

Breathes in the rain with a silent prayer,

Every droplet a whispered promise,

Of life renewed in the cool, moist air.

The fragrance of the wet earth rises,

A scent of hope, of dreams reborn,

In the fields, where farmers toil,

Their hearts are light, their spirits sworn.

Children splash in the muddy streets,

Their laughter a song that fills the sky,

They dance beneath the falling rain,

Free as the birds that on the winds fly.

The rivers swell with newfound might,

Their currents swift, their voices strong,

They carve their paths through ancient lands,

Singing the earth’s eternal song.

Underneath the thatched rooftops,

Families gather, their faces bright,

They share in the joy of the blessed rain,

A gift that breaks the summer’s blight.

The rain, a balm for weary souls,

Washes away the heat, the pain,

And in its wake, it leaves behind,

A world refreshed, a vibrant plain.

As the last drops kiss the earth,

The moon peeks through the clouds above,

A silent witness to the night,

A symbol of nature’s endless love.