The rain travels the world and revisits me telling me where it has been. |
Long-Traveled Rain I smell the crisp and coming rain, suddenly it falls upon my face, It's drops trace what it touches, drops in dirt making a mud lace. Earth's scent in my nostrils expands, So oddly musky and deeply provoking. From The velvet ground in my hands, surfacing worms come up poking. Trees stand like pillars for the sky, holding it up with zealous praise. Leaves swaying and filtering light, as I look through them and gaze. Leaves a canopy for sky top frogs, swimming in green rain-made pools. Below primates coax bugs from logs, with simple sticks that became tools. Myriads of creatures in mass profusion. the soil, water, and flora do protect, I cannot fathom their great numbers, and could not even begin to project. Sea rolls to shore on carpets of sand, with small offerings of it's vast contents, teasing and changing the coastlines, of earth's slowly changing continents. Schools of fish flash like quicksilver, tempting the sea monsters that wait. Arising from the depths abruptly, fish now caught are delivered their fate. Beneath sea and on the land far below, mineral and gaseous brews concoct, sending liquid metal and ash in the air, while nearby lifeforms are shocked. Volcanic seeds feeding the clouds, producing earthen-made showers, Quickly building to tropical storm, that travels up the coast for hours. Breathing in I now smell the coming rain, and inhale earth's life into my core, the weary rain that rests upon my face, long-traveled, now visits me once more. by: Kimarie Manhart-Freeman |