It is raining.
The noise disturbs the quiet afternoon
awaking me from my shallow sleep.
I look outside as I lay still on my bed
watching the rain pours slanting on my window.
In the many rainy days of life this is the only time
that I really paid attention to the cleansing elements of rain
washing my senses in a drowsy afternoon.

It is turbulent outside;
I am motionless inside.

I delight to the sight of the sparkling waters
confined on the tips of the leaves
and that magical moment when the gentle breeze
shake the lucid liquid beads off the trees.
Below are streams of rain water collected into small pools
in the concrete pavement that drain to the gutter,
to the directions I wouldn’t know.
I listen closely to the refreshing sound of waters
rushing down the spout near my window
as I block my ears from the much louder
and annoying noise of the down pours hitting the roofs
and the grounds that now release that sweet scent of the earth when it rains.

The chilly feel,
the soothing sights,
and sounds, and smell of the rain
calm my senses.

The heavens bathe the trees again.
Quenching the thirst in our hearts
and bring our wilted souls back to life
so our petals display their rich colors once more.

The heavens wash the pavements
and the gutters and flush the arteries of the city
from the clotted debris draining them to rivers,
and lakes, and oceans and the filthy sins of the city
dissolves and forgotten in nature’s forgiving heart.

Silently I, too,
let the rain carry my own sighs
down the drain and I felt the cleansing of my heart.

And the rain stopped.

I watch the faint reflection of twilight
in my window and let it in.
The view gave my soul a certain peace.

I am a better me like a cleared window pane after the rain.