When it rained…
I thought about first meetings
For some reason, pickles come to mind…
to be eaten together
One jar riper than the other…
I thought of uncertain handshakes and awkward hugs
Of walking away fast
Of standing far away and watching one walk away fast
Of remembered details
And of details we get reminded of…
Of puffs
Of white shirts
And seemingly zebras mounted on foreheads
It rained and I remembered… not because it rained then, but because rain speaks to the soul and reminds you of the beauty of living.
And petals of a flower, blown far apart in heavy wind. Forever lost to one another, it seems. But find each other again, in rebirth, in time, unforeseen.
When it rained, I remembered testing the waters with the tips of my toes
And then my foot
And then a leg
And plunging into a pool of golden warmth
At ease, turbulent, relentless.
It rains still.
The rain stops, but when it does, the air smells beautifully.
Remember to breathe in.
