When The Heavens Opened Up

It's raining again. The air is filled with the smell of the parched earth heaving under the cool showers. Petrichor it's called, someone told me once when I'd used a similar expression. Yes, petrichor, but then this one word could never possibly describe the way I perceive it, can it? It sounds like a bleaching agent. I don't know why, it just does.
There's Eric Clapton's "Walk Out In The Rain" playing softly, tugging at my heartstrings. Clouds cover the sky, and here and there a tiny star dares to peek out. I'm reading one of Pablo Neruda's. And yet another beautiful poem comes to mind.. a thing of beauty is a joy forever.....
A lot of things come to mind, and all of them are invariably brushed aside. I'll think about them, but not today. Here, this moment is just too perfect to ruin with thoughts. I let this breeze wash through me. Maybe I should make myself a cup of coffee... or maybe just not yet. For now, it's just me and the sound of rain, and the smell of rain, and the songs of rain.



{if you thought this post was utterly incoherent, you're not alone. I think the same, but now that I've typed all that in, I don't have the heart to delete it. You read it? My sympathies. But this one was straight from the heart. :) }