I CAN stand the rain

At first when I was a child and I was so in tune with the universe, nature and the elements. I practically lived outside. I could smell it coming; early. Before those who are now my ancestors would complain of achy knees or before lightning painted crooked lines across the sky, that endearing scent was a precursor or warning. Waking my senses like no other, then gifting us treasures of green acres and colorful blooms.

The rain was my peace. It was a song and dance. Lulling me to sleep or pounding the pavement waking me to sleepy days. It had rhythm and momentum. It was so giving. There was something about the rain that shows us that we are not in control. The rain kept me at my window as a child. Wondering what life was about beyond this town. Wishing it away so I could go play.

I got older and found out my bushy hair could lay so slick. I ran out the door and ran through the yard on a muggy, spring afternoon. Trying to make it to my cousins before the sky opened but the elements beat me to the door. I swirled my body and swung my damp hair in the atmosphere. I felt so free. Nature girl with soggy curls.

Lazy Sunday afternoons, sitting Indian style in the middle of my bed. Slowing the town down. Giving us time to catch up on my chapters of Judy Blume or Shel Silverstein or reciting poetry with my chest poked out. Mama would be cleaning with Pine sol and bleach as she shuffled her generous hips around to a soulful tune on the record player. It gave us time to take our time.

Later it changed for me. I lived under a couple who couldn't seem to get along. He beat her often, he took her song. My hands cupped my ears and mouthed "You are a queen". I wish she knew that. Those days I prayed for the rain to take away her pain. Wash away her tears.

As the years press on, my body ages as well as my mind. Wisdom sets in. I think of my childhood bedroom full of books and dreams. The rain is still my friend. I thank it for the flowers, the grass and memories of when I left that town. Passed that lady in my thoughts. Praying she has found her crown. I still sit in the middle of my bed. Still gaze out the window. Still leave this universe into my head with every word I read. I can still smell the rain; early.