Friday, February 10, 2012

Drops of sky


I am roused by the smell
The sound of thousand little drops
Pit-pattering on the pavement

They beckon for me to come out
And stand amidst them
A part of their elaborate dance

I rush outside to watch
As the sky comes down
In million fragments, all alike

They are the million sons
Of sky and the cloud
Shy of sunshine, the daughter of sun

I wonder if there are new arrivals
They feel the same as they did all those years ago
Wet in touch, wet in taste, washing me away

Are they like me?
New in every moment but essentially the same
Varying emotions, varying sizes but never a ghost, always me

Indeed there is a kinship
As I rise from the ground in welcome
They fall from the sky too eager to please

I raise up my face for a kiss
But they take me in for something more intense
Caressing my face lightly

It’s cold outside, but they are ice
Piercing the warm blankets around me
Making goose-bumps come alive

Now they are me, I am they
Soaked through and through with each other
Equilibrium of sorts

As I look on, the colors have all mingled
Green of grass seeping into cold gray tar
Flowers and leaves in shades entirely new

They are holding back now
The noise recedes, but it smells heavenly around
Their essence lives in all things earthly

I walk back in
Taking a memory with me when we were one
Still my skin tingles as those drops trace their story down my spine…