“Confessions of a Pluviophile”

06|18|14

“I smell the familiar scent of a familiar season.
The roads no longer dry,
The trees no longer brittle.
The breeze has begun to blow–
And once did I know,
Footsteps were about to step on mud
And give five roses to my trembling hands.

I hear drops began to multiply once again.
People begin to run and find their shade,
While umbrellas open wide,
And hoods covering heads,
For once did I know,
Footsteps were about to walk under showers
Only to hear a voice that lead me home.

I see the skies turn to gray and gather together.
Sunshine seemingly gone or out of reach,
A time for melancholy and nostalgia,
Reminiscent sentiments kicking in.
And once did I know,
Footsteps were about to knock on my hibernating heart
And open my eyes to hope and try again.

I feel them falling and sinking all around me.
I lift my hands and they surround me.
The tango continues from day to night–
See the silhouette of ‘oneness so sound’,
For once did I know,
Footsteps were about to be bumping each other
When shadows finally became one.

I taste that sweetness touching my lips.
I close my eyes, I feel its dip.
I open my arms once and for all,
And hear the pounding heartbeat of that drop.
For once did I know,
Footsteps that once came my way
Will be ones that won’t let me go from this moment on.”

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