I walked in rain today.
As a trooper I came,
on my own,
as the rain’s body I,
in the forest on the road back,
left.
Rain put Home on my lips,
head
and lungs
through chills of tundra in them,
blurring of the vessel
by streams of constancy
on my visage.
So close to the most righteous place of me,
of appurtenance,
I almost came into ragged breaths,
oxygen not sufficing for Heart.
Weren’t it for the body
I had to take care of
and still don’t know
how to leave unattended,
I would have begged all that water of crystal,
turning all the world into shiny blurs,
to take me with itself for a joyride
and don’t return to this land soon.