"…the rain, I love…"

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.


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