A Virgin’s Rainfall

It’s like stepping out of the rain,
the soft pounding on skin ceases, numbs,
and the weight of clothes sink me.
Droplets dry on these cheeks so gently,
and the sun peaks out, like a child.

Grass glows between my toes,
the mud cushions and comforts
in our park.
Heavy reminders drip from the
leaves of the trees
so tall and old,
unbending and solid.
There’s a life inside of it so strong,
it feeds me with jars of eternity,
it whispers to me through the rustle up above,
swaying and singing in this light wind.

I shed these showered garments and
lie naked in the silked green;
ladybirds integrate themselves in each strand of my head’s gold,
my hair can fly like electricity.
I am blanketed by warmest memories
and those late lazy daisies…
Grey clouds part, the rain is retired
And the world is kissed by such confident light,
blinded by such surprising beauty.

A grin plays over this untouched face,
this life so virgin.
Dizziness so purple and orange is inside me, and
I giggle into the sinking earth,
peaceful and calm,
amongst the raindrops of yesterday.