There is a wildness to the rain;
just like there is to the human spirit.
Can you feel it?
Somnolent, the dry earth is awakened, tendrils of feeling
reaching deeper and deeper,
relentless in their tenacity and with little intention of stopping—
in hindsight the moment was significant,
a prognosis of sorts;
a rush of thoughts liberated with a cry of exclamation,
a flurry of stolen kisses— I linger for you
unshakeable in my belief,
like a leaf is when swirling, slowly, steadily and inevitably in the wind.
I have read you carefully,
sipped the heady wine of viridian irises,
there seems to be no explanation for this exquisite attraction,
my lips formed to rebel,
to break through the bonds of convention— the rain, in all its glory,
has sunk into my roots; I feel no regret.
Photo credits: Pinterest
A Skylover Wordlist: Somnolent, uncanny, rebel, prognosis 💝