Wet and warm
like a first real kiss,
her raindrops fall
in a heavy, steady, rhythmic
symphony of drum beats
on the canvas awning
above our mountaintop window,
rolling green hills
become a veiled dragon
sleepily watching
the rooftop patchwork
lazily bathing
as I sit quietly reveling
in this dousing
downfall of a
movable ocean,
April rain quenches
chartreuse shoots
and mud-born buds
as she soothes our
winter-weathered souls
with restorative moisture
carried far and long
over glacial scars
and endless plains,
wafting through
open windows
a welcome friend
with open arms
and cerebral ambiance,
generously lending us
her ancient sedation
while passing through
on her journey
to reunite
with the sky.
Renee Novosel
All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2014
This photo…brilliant with the poem. Wow.
Thank you, Julianna!