The air feels heavy.
Laden with moisture.
Clouds roll in.
The sky grows darker.
Then you hear the first drops.
The water pounding on the roof
in a staccato melody of its own.
Pound, pound, pound.
Tap, tap, tap.
The rain washes our streets
and clears our minds.
Preparing us for a new day.
The rain falls in a constant rhythm,
A soothing and mesmerizing sound.
Tree branches weigh down with water,
Dripping tears for the absent sun.
Flowers lift their faces for washing,
Soon shiny and crisp from the drops.
The sky clears and the clouds spin dry,
As the sun returns to herald its return.
A new day dawns around us,
New beginnings for our slice of paradise.
Raindrops on my mind.
A feeling of cleanliness.
How can we resist its pull?
It draws us to the window.
To watch its majestic descent.
It washes away all dirt and impurities.
Wash me.
Make me fresh and new.
Who can ask for anything more?
draevendelunaSource:
The air feels heavy,
Laden with moisture.
Clouds roll in.
The sky grows darker.
Then you hear the first drops.
The water pounding on the roof
in a staccato melody of its own.
Pound, pound, pound.
Tap, tap, tap.
The rain washes our streets
and clears our minds.
Preparing us for a new day.
FEEL THE RAIN
Feel the wetness.
Feel the coldness.
As it slides down your arm.
Refreshing.
Smooth.
Perfect.
The rain hits the puddles in staccato rhythm.
A constant and mesmerizing sound.
Tree branches hang low–weighed down with water.
Flowers lift their shiny faces for their washing.
The cold, crisp rain refreshes.
The clouds dry out.
The sun returns to brighten the day.
The air smells fresh and clean.
A new day dawns.
A new beginning.
The ocean may take it far away,
To places we cannot even say.
Where no one recognizes its sting
Or knows the infliction it can bring.
Let the rain grow harder with its might,
Becoming hail on this fateful night.
I want to be free of all traces
Of unwanted feelings and faces.
My body grows cold from the rain.
It stands clean and free from the pain.
Shivers create a path down my spine,
As I wait in the dark woods of pine.
I hold my head high to the wet spray.
It becomes a mist of blue and grey.
The faucet has turned off for the night,
Leaving me feeling clean and so right.
Rain washes away all impurities.
It leaves the ground fresh and new.
The fragrance of grass and flowers
floats in the clean air.
A good time to create and write.
A good time to start anew.
A new day for all.
