Pondering

Rain

I can't tell you what beautiful means,

but I can tell you what it is

because whilst we're seeking it it's here.

Beauty is rain-

the soothing soft pitter patter against the roof,

the racing drops down windows,

renewal and growth,

the pureness of the air afterwards,

the dark clouds that losses fall from quietly and beautifully,

and the fresh moist earth it leaves in its wake.

You're like the rain,

with a softness about you,

pure and innocent and true you envelop me,

you are the clear air that finally allows for breath,

you lavish upon life;

I want to feel the drops on my bare skin.

With passion and enlightenment that's resounding as the clap of thunder,

you illuminated my sky as a lightning strike does.

You act as though I've mistaken a glorious storm for the water droplets that fall from a shower head.

You danced with me in the rain moments ago and it made me change my mind-

you are much more like the poems I write in the rain than the rain itself.

But I won't have to chose one over the other because although poetry and rain are the most beautiful combination and my most favorite things in the world;

it seems I may have a new favorite because you are the twain: rain and poetry all wrapped up in one.