Sprit of Rain

Your presence is like the first tender touch of rain,

Softer than the whispers of a child’s footsteps,

So gentle, I do not lose myself in your being.

But your staying is like the sweet, endless song of rain cascading from eaves,

A soothing, unbroken melody,

Washing away all sorrow, carrying it far.

Even your leaving is steeped in the cool, misty echoes of rain,

Like the hushed wonder of flowers and leaves after the rain’s generous kiss.

Come, stay,

But if you must depart, carry with you the spirit of the rain.