Whispering clouds and thundering skies,
lightening dazzles the night so shy,
as I wander lonely on the street,
I notice people around me scurrying by...
The pitter-patter of these drops of rain
The scent of the earth much divine
The musical sway of leaves on trees
Wild flowers with a freshness that shines...
I meet a girl with olive skin,
with a smile that does not meet the eye,
a deep sadness she must harbour there,
her heart seems burdened by a lie...
In silence as I watch her restrain,
I wonder how she hides her pain,
and then it dawns on me--she is trying,
but in the rain, who can see her crying?
Next, I meet a man complaining,
who frets and sulks because its raining,
talks about the muck and mud,
like an angry cow chews cud...
I notice his shirt---its dirty now,
a car has splashed a puddle somehow,
his mood is foul, his anger fair,
it's raining, but he does not care...
As I walk by another lane,
I see a man with his lady love,
sheltering her from the lashing wind,
a match made by the heavens above...
Dancing and jumping mad with glee,
soaking wet and drenched insane,
I greet them, children of innocent age,
oblivious to worry or worldy gain...
Someone trying to hide his pain,
someone revealing his disdain,
sometimes a blessing, for some a bane,
it's a wave of magic---this January rain!
Writers note: There was a sudden downpour in my head, and as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow rightfully said, "The best thing one can do when its raining is to let it rain" ;)