I've never minded the cold
pitter patter or puddles
or purple skies
with lightning reaching out
to touch the earth,
even for just a second

and neither did you.

you embraced it
the smell
the sight of streams and streaks
and sounds subtle drumming from above

and took it with you.

now every rumble shakes my very being
every strike forces me to draw back

not knowing if I fear mother nature
or the memories
or what I don't know
or what could have been

but I do know that with every storm
everything becomes real
and I get my feet wet
again and again
hoping I can, someday

reclaim the rain.