Soft, feminine,
it tickles my ears and
alights in my mind
like a sparrow looking for sugar.
I am a leaf catching single drops,
drinking again after a long, dry week.
The symphony of slippery sliding down tree trunks
picks up in a crescendo of crowding
increases in tempo and pitch
as a building wind.
I spill the extra over the edges of my cupped surface.
I have thirsted for so long and
let them go with ease, knowing
more will come when I need to drink again.
Rain is silent
with no need of aural expression.
The sound emits from its meeting myriad surfaces,
alive and inert.
Silver threads of drops at speed
chase one another on their journey to earth,
gravity the glue between the drop and
the leaf it is bound to.
Each drop is promised to its Beloved.
It falls, falls, drunk with attraction,
landing on a slightly tilted surface and silently sliding,
caressing a path, leaving behind its own substance,
a silver glow of wet.
That sound is not the rain.
It is the rejoicing of each surface
welcoming home its lover,
the piece of water that annihilates itself gladly.
It has thrown itself out of the sky,
fallen into the unknown,
trusting that it will land in the perfect place
as always.
Upon landing, it is finished.
The taught surface explodes and
water fuses with leaf, enters, integrated, merges
cell to cell, molecule to molecule in a holy union.
The sound of rain is the sound of Life’s longing for itself.
7.14.12
fascinating Julie… I will hold this one and can’t wait to take it in, in the rain. I recognize those trees… Really beautiful work !!!!