On a drenched, dark, soaked up night
while the rain was rinsing the city clean
my mind went wandering over 
to a wasteland of forgotten memories

Where-in, as a child
I'd sit by the window and watch
the rain droplets trickling down
and leaving behind a trail, a stream
that rest of the drops followed

My inquisitive mind would wonder
at the mystic sounds of thunder
and I'd feel somewhat intoxicated
with  the scent of the first rain
and the tranquil, serene sense
that it lefts after

Coming back to my senses
yet feeling vaguely inebriated
with the surrounding earthly aroma
I climbed to my bed
and I could hear
the quiet enveloping the room
and I could hear
the rustling blankets
and I could hear
my heart... skipping a beat
for the melancholic beauty of rainy days

Rain stimulates me,
Rain heals me,
Rain makes me feel alive
Rain reminds me that 'I exist'