Ummm...Have you ever stood under a falling rain...lifted your face to the sky and just let time slip...
Well...I have...and it gave me something to think about...I thought I would share those thoughts with you...
Still the rain fell
Rain fell soft on the upturned face
Pools formed and overflowed where closed eyelids met
Small rivers ran skirting the promontory cheekbones
racing the straights along that small and perfect nasal mountain
Only to break against the lips those twin mounds of expression
and fall again in testimony to relativism
Still the rain fell
The individual pummeling massages away tensions worry
and that single greatest threat to potential the doubt of self
This cleansing flow this gift
Strange to think that water washes clean both spirit and flesh
yet contained at the heart of each falling drop
a speck of dust a realm in minutia a piece of dirt
To think that cleanliness often associated with a pure pious innocence
carries deep within it's core the very seed of that which we try to wipe away
Not of filth and depravity
Not of fear or shames bold residue
But of earth
of essence
Rain fell soft on the upturned face
There you have it...a peek into the role of falling water drops...a glimpse into one singular moment not disturbed by thoughts racing behind the brow
on which those raindrops fell...
YouSir