I want to stand barefoot
in a shallow puddle, so the water
soaks my soles.
I have been dry for too long,
kept inside four gray walls,
away from the embrace of wilderness.
It beckons me, begging me
to raise my arms to
the cascade of droplets.
Lightning flashes, a shimmer
beyond the evergreen horizon,
but behind my closed eyelids,
I see only the aurora
of my truest colors.
Thunder growls at me, yet
it's music to my ears.
Steam rises from the pavement
as drifting waves of phantoms,
but I do not feel the heat.
Nor do I fear the chilled surge
of this shower that christens me.
Let it cling to my clothes and hair,
then linger as morning dew.
Let it bathe my bones
and invigorate my atoms and cells,
the nucleus of me that had shriveled.
Let this storm saturate me
with peace of mind and
the dripping urgency to
spin in circles and run
through this waterfall of life.

I want to come alive
in an August rain.

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