Kiss the Rain
The looming clouds whisper that the rain is coming
And the wind obviously agrees with good old Nimbus
Slowly, the ground is sprinkled with tiny black dots
As the rain descends and kisses the earth
The leaves of the ancient Oak tree at the front porch
Basks in nature’s shower, as if faintly dancing
Like a terpsichorean performing on a stage
Curtsying with the weight of the rain
I walked down from the front porch’s steps
Twirling around with my eyes closed as I joined the rhythm
My feet surprisingly graceful on wet grass
My hands stretched out, palms facing the sky
Allowing the rain to hold hands with mine
Nothing beats the feeling of raindrops on my face
And I can’t help but feel sorry for those
Who haven’t taken the chance to dance and kiss the rain.
June 17, 2009
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