All morning, and into the afternoon, was the sky a soft haze of silver grays.
The rain was ever imminent, but crouched… waiting. Ominously, the clouds rolled from the balmy West to the surly East. I was unaffected (for the most part) content to immerse myself in one task (or another)… and then I remembered, all that I had forgotten.
“Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby…”
`Twas barely past the stroke of the afternoon when I heard the first peal of far-away thunder… rolling from the distant horizon until it became a tympanic roar within my mind. THY power throughout the Universe displayed; then sings my Soul.
“The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night…”
Outside, slanting torrents are whipping across the treetops and splish-splashing the blackened asphalt in a greasy glaze – and I can see it only in my mind. Enclosed in four windowless walls, my Soul yearns ever outward and upward. Release.
“…and I love the rain.”
I remember many things forgotten…
…the way the rain fell upon her face
on a Spring day of our youth;
how rapt I beheld a single drop
light upon her eyelashes.
I saw our whole world within that space,
reflected now in the time that has passed.
Stealing a moment for myself, from the order and protocol of a workday`s obligatory exercises, I stride down the long hall – turning a corner, and drowning in a vision of blinding incandescence.
Clarity, order, and precision flood my mind. I panic at the sudden stillness that has overtaken my mannish instincts of guile and maneuverings… all is calm.
I am spellbound by beauty. Something about the delicate gray sky in blazing contrast to the sodden verdance of the earth stirs something deep, where even my demons fear to tread.