The rain is in rhythm.
It is heavy, full,

fat-droplets by the million.

Down intently, rushed,

releasing a flooded-burden.

Feverishly, to the ground,

caught and savored.

Momentarily.

Then let go!

To rivers wild, oceans abounding,

drink her in.

Purpose —

To feed mighty earth,

grow his scent in colorful flowers …

But, what is she all about?

A queen without a crown.

Every drop an individual story…

I listen —

For answers in the empty space,

between her stream,

learn,

as I watch gray emerge into

truthful dullness.

My heart is still.

The realization:

Rain is a woman in love—

 

Pouring-out her heart,

needed,

to nurture,

be caught,

savored,

to grow something beautiful.

When let go,

she cries broken hearted.

©Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte

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