Moments after I lament that I do not think it will ever rain again in Iowa...voila!
RAIN!
OK, a sprinkle. Followed by a tish heavier sprinkle. Suppose you could call it a shower. Followed by a light wind gust.
I tear downstairs, out the front door, face upward, eyes wide open, giddily awash in the early Saturday morning rain drops, pajamas and all.
For a second, I think I hear a rumble of thunder in the distance. Bring it!
"Mom, you look like a crazy lady! Come in the house!" my 19-year-old son pleads from the safe, dry confines of our front porch.
"I am a crazy lady!" I reply, laughing out loud, letting the momentarily-wild wind tousle my crumpled bed-head hair.
Rainy Saturdays! My favorite! Maybe we do bring the rain. Still.
I run barefoot across the hard, drought-dried lawn, now wondrously soft and wet.
Rain! Glorious rain!
A cool breeze! Goosebumps! A slight shiver! YES!
Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.
Breathe, Annie. Breathe.
Smiling.
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste
it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else
can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can
speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live
your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is
still unwritten...
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