You know that feeling when it's been hot all day,
and just after the cone of ice cream is place in you hand,
you smell those first five drops of rain hit the scorching tarmac,
you hear the soft sequel of the water evaporating as quickly as it came.
As the sweet dew soaks your clothes and fills you your hair,
and pure joy and laughter escape the 100 degree pit,
the tiny flames all around, extinguished.
I marvel in the sudden downpour,
and through the deafening noise of droplets meeting the pavement,
Like they have suddenly found their true place,
I tell you "I love the rain".
I have always loved the rain,
her calming sounds,
they way she commands the world to stop and give her attention.
When the drains overflow with clear running water,
and people jump the streams that have formed in minuets.
I love the way she makes people talk about her,
the anticipation she builds
-" I hope it doesnt rain! Was it forcast?"
-such a tease.
But I see your face as these simple words land inside your delicate ears,
Oh! everything about you was so delicate,
your words and hands,
your voice and it's song,
your actions and their love.
you were soft and timid and I thought that's what attracted me,
you shielded my thorns as you called me a rose,
and still I wonder if by any other name would I taste so sweet,
upon your tender tongue.
You are nothing like the thunder and her friends - my friends.
I rejoice in these relentless storms,
I've learned to dance in them,
to find the most in a day made for the ducks,
but you are used to the sun,
and so when I, your rose, did not wilt in this drowning,
your delicate nature hid you away,
and when I ask if you know the feeling when its been hot all day,
and just when you step foot outside you can smell the rain,
your face tells me I'm delusional,
and you mouth orders me inside,
and for the first time you are not delicate.
You would rather not dance in my storm,
but I was never a rose - not your rose,
I was a lotus all along.
