Washed Away

I know you’re there. They call you the pluviophiles don’t they?

When your smile deepens with the color of the clouds

It's such a common thing to love. Who doesn't love the rain?

Is it the storm or the eye that you love

Do you live for the passion in the wind or the stillness of the end

Do you wait for the puddles to fill

Making mirrors for the sky

So she can gaze at herself

What do you do? Do you read? Do you run to fantastic worlds and distant lands?

On those nights when everything seems smaller, and private

The rain lulls the world, and I let the books take me to jungles and saharan sands.

I hear it. The howling outside, like an animal

But I am safe inside

The world feels different after, you know. The freshness, a certain peace.

The drops hitting with such force, dust rising, the taste of parched soil lingers in the air

Jewels on every leaf, a mistress kissed and reassured.

Of course I never forgot you

They seem to say

I love to walk through it. The air tastes different. Sweeter and heavier on my tongue.

The terroir of lands far away, hidden lakes and forgotten rivers

Colors blur and deepen. The silver sheen around them flashing in time with the wind.

The roots soak up the rain

And Im soaked

The light is different in the rain. The lamps soften, and paint a world not so harsh

Curtains of mist separating fantasy and reality, playing with both

The soft pitter patter takes my mind away, and I wander through years of memories

I hear the constant drizzle

And eternity lives in those seconds

You'll know what I'm saying, when I talk about the smell

Young and playing through puddles in the asphalt

The hot and scorching smell of petrichor, sending ichor through your veins.

One day it would be the last time

You felt the fire in your veins

The sleep is the best, you know. It's a balm for the mind, a mother's lullaby

The same melody but a different song this time

I never remember when I fall asleep, but I always feel safe, for who would be out in this rain?

Only I exist

And the rain

You know. Because you've caught yourself staring out the window. You crave the sound.

The steady beating in your heart in time to the lilting pulse of rain

The song has been stuck in your head and you stand still as the storm dances around.

You'll forget it as soon as it stops

Ephemeral as each drop

The drum beats on your rooftop

And chasing raindrops down the windows a lifelong thinking game.

What can I say? Im guilty too.