Living in the Moment

Living in the Moment

I love rain, heavy rain, drenching rain.

Rain so thick that it limits visibility,
becomes a cloud across the ground,
occasionally lit up as the lightning flashes.

The sound, rhythmic,
increasing and decreasing
as the rain sheets
with a crack of thunder
thrown in here and there.

Walking in it,
feeling its modulation,
dripping with it.

Watching the rivulets
run down the windowpane
and the trees dance in the wind.

The pool’s surface no longer glassy
but choppy, disturbed.

Now a siren, signaling what?

But the rain continues unheeding,
until it peters out
to a mere whisper of its glorious self . . .

1998