The air hangs still and dense,
its doldrums a reflection of my spirit.
This weather would find relief
in a fresh rainfall, but I refuse to cry. Renewal will come in due time,
to the inner landscapes of my heart.
Your laughter is a deluge of joy
I await.
Until you return to this land,
I will survive the drought.
But on that day, we will dance
in the rain.
You will soak me through.
I will rejoice.
Like wine, it will intoxicate me.I will drink your beauty. But no hangover;
I will awake, rejuvenated.
Your rain, in its purity,
has no danger of excess.
|