I never tire of the rain. I don’t think there has been a single time in my life where I thought or said, “Man, I wish it would just stop raining.”
I’ve never personally had to deal with much flooding, so I guess I’m selfish in that sense – to always be wishing for more rain.

It’s the smell, and the earth as it dampens and changes color under an otherwise melancholy sky. Even with subdued light, a nearly undiscovered beauty is exposed for yearning eyes.

It’s something about the senses. The sunlight is often too blinding.
Sure, the sun allows for activity, browned skin, sun-soaked bliss. But the rain allows other things – peace, solitude, quiet, reflection.

It wraps me up in its sounds and smells and allows me freedom. I surrender to this blanket and awake refreshed and revitalized.

I write best in the rain; I think best in the rain; and as the drops trickle down my face and into my eyes, I can finally see.

1 thought on “Rain

  1. poetryfromtheinkwell June 24, 2018 — 9:11 pm

    Petrichor is life giving – I love to smell the Earth after a rain fall. Love the image and your description of how you love the rain.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close