rain drops

it's a rainy day outside . . .

the view out the front window is a bit blurry . . .

the melody in arid drifts of rain,

is the visible, serene and fictive air

of inspiration rising as if in prayer.

from "afternoon of a faun" by stephane mallarme

the hostas are happy about the rain

so are these little plants

and so am i!

i love to walk in the rain,

i always have.

sure it finds its way through clothing,

d

o

w

n

warm backs,

even down warm tummy's!

then some of it finds its way from my forehead,

along my nose,

and drips onto my outstretched tongue.

that's right a fifty-two year old man walking 'round with his tongue stuck out to catch raindrops.

(i do it in the winter when it snows as well!!)

could one drop taste better.

could i treasure one drop of water more?

one little drop

that began its journey who knows where?

i love what santoka taneda says about rainy afternoons~

just as it is —

it rains,

i get wet,

i walk

yes i do!