content:
the cool soft breeze caressing your hair
happiness:
the clear bright sunny sky
sadness:
the gentle rain dampening your skin
depression:
the pouring rain drenching your clothes
anger:
the scorching sun and whipping wind
rage:
the violent winds and tornado warnings

Last time when the dust turned blue
a new kind of rain erupted
like pellets bouncing off the ground
realizations poured over our heads
last time I laid flat on a road
and challenged the force of decisional wind
protesting the passage of time
swallowing images of mountain range
from the highest point in the city
last time I felt so dearly in love
with the color of the sky
with the way things go,
with the touch of new life
last time I got to know my own breathing
was when, just like this,
in seasonal change, fragments of old self
came to accompany on a journey
through a new day

in Sp
ring
when song
birds

singjoy
fully,
dying
is

dull
;but
fat worms
****

**** thunder
are the
raindrops
f

alling&stain
ing the
side
walk,rin

sing off
the
col
orful chalk

There was a girl who danced in the rain.
No one understood her or cared for her pain.
She danced out in the puddles all alone.
No sun in sight, for it had set long ago.
She used the thunder booms to dampen her screams,
As she pondered through the pitter-patter, what everything means.
Sometimes the others would spray her with a hose,
Knocking her glasses off her nose.
They’d shatter,
Masked by the pitter-patter,
They’d laugh at her,
Since it didn’t matter to them.
She was going through a storm with winds like a hurricane.
All that the others saw was a girl going insane.
All that she wanted was someone to listen to her cries,
But all that anybody did when they looked her way was sigh.
She danced throughout the night,
The lightning lit up the sky.
She would have danced till the end of time,
If he hadn’t stepped into her life.
He took her hand,
Stopped her from spinning around.
The rain fades away from where they stand,
And she finally feels found.
The girl who danced in the rain,
Found a partner for her ballet.

A hush descends before the heavens weep,
a gentle murmur stirs the leaves to set the stage.
The wind whispers, a breath in slumber deep,
like the delicate rustle of a turning page.

It rises slowly, from whisper to roar,
gales surge with desperate fervor, a wild refrain,
like a restless sea thrown upon the shore,
a swelling harmony of wind and leaf and rain.

Teardrops slip and curve where bending boughs lean,
gliding down a trembling blade in quiet sigh,
a fleeting dance upon the emerald green,
before the waiting puddle claims the weeping sky.

It's raining outside right now. It's raining.
It's beating down the dust on silent pavements.
I waited you to come the day before.
Today I've realized it was bedevilment.

I've realized it when I saw your smile
In raindrops, flowing down the window,
Your pretty eye wrinkles, so tremulous and soft,
And you in whole, so false and so ridiculous.

Waiting for you, alas, is not my lot.
No yesterday or next day, and no later.
I hate the rain today! I really hate the rain!
There's so much pain in it. I stop to be a waiter.