Is it strange, that the cold breeze and icy water have given me more warmth and comfort than any lantern or the very tight embrace of my socks.
Is it strange, that the sound of downpour is suddenly more melodious than any of Mozart’s symphonies or any of Beethoven’s indeed.
Is it strange, that even after I have been sitting here all day,
Listening to the rain drops descend down to concrete
and watching the pitter-patter; my eyes and ears yearn for more;
A lot more of it, I await.
I think it is strange,
How all winter long I thought I was finally alive,
but this rain; this rain still managed to moisten my thoughts and bring my impressions back to life.
It is strange, how people only sea rain,
I feel my thoughts retrieving back to me.
With every wave of the cool breeze that is passing by me,
Whispering sweet nothings,
Tingling the skin, my body’s surface,
Giving wild goosebumps to me.
I feel the freshness hitting.
Hope, positivity is finally
So when at midnight,
I finally dipped in.
The rain washed me.
As if it were snake skin,
The piercing water washed away my decaying skim; freed me of antecedent sins.
(Picture credit: Pinterest)