Where lightning seeks the dancer

The day had put on its brightest face,

All golden fire, no hint of grace,

The sun had reigned in the age of fire

The earth bursting, the grains of dry land,

Till the heat became a weight

A silent prayer to change our fate

For something soft, some kind,

To cool the fevered human mind.

And then, at dusk, the winds conspire,

Breathing softly with a whisper,

The trees begin their secret dance,

Their leaves flicker, sway and sway,

Silence falls on bird and beast

The kingdom has stopped, the dream continues,

And far beyond the hills that are not seen

Raise high walls of deep green.

The clouds come rolling in, bold and proud,

A rolling army, vast and loud,

Their voices roar from their center,

Their drums of rain begin to fall

The sky opens, sighs of relief,

His burden is lifted, his grief is accepted,

And all the world, with aching hearts,

Can slowly feel his healing.

I step outside, taking off my shoes,

The air is cool, the day is breaking,

The first few drops on my face

Are blessings from another place

Like the tears of saints, like crystal prayers,

They wash away forgotten worries,

I raise my eyes to greet the storm,

Let its music warm me

The rain began its lively song,

A thousand drums pounding together,

Each note a pulse, a wild refrain,

Inviting feet to break their chains,

And so I spin, I jump, I spin,

A laughing, dripping, fearless girl,

Who is out of time, who feels no shame,

Dancing in the summer rain

There is freedom in the splash,

In muddy fingers and flashes of lightning,

A kind of grace that soaks the soul,

Unwritten laws lose all control,

Heaven and earth become one

A meeting place for all,

Where children scream and old people smile

Because storms can heal us for a while.

I think of lovers, far away,

Who dream of rain to soothe their hearts

Of farmers who have prayed for weeks

Watching the rivers fill,

of the townspeople whose stone-walled streets

are washed by their weary feet,

of dancers lost in mirrored halls

who find their own stage in the rain's blackness.

Each drop writes a complete line,

on skin, on grass, on clothes, on time,

an ancient poem that is still old.

More than we have ever set,

words are the scent of summer

the sound of hands in rhythm,

the taste of the sky when it comes down.

to wash away the harsh shock

my arms open, my heart wide

no place to run, no need to hide,

it seems the sky has read my mind

it knows I want to leave behind

burdens I cannot name,

silent sorrow, secret blame,

and here, beneath this fierce cascade,

I find the courage not to fade.

Around me, and people gather closer,

Some at first shy, some free from fear,

A child with yellow shoes will jump,

A woman laughs, ignoring the collision.

Of strangers brushing by in the street,

All share in this wild retreat,

As if the storm has made us kin

As if the rain has forgiven our sins.

I look at them, drenched strangers like me,

Their eyes bright, their souls free,

And think how rare it is.

Such shared joy, such shared design,

No need for words, no masks, no games,

Just honest skin and raindrops,

And in this moment, I believe

There is still a hope that we can recover.

Storms remind us of the truth:

The earth is old yet full of youth

And though the sun will burn again,

Cannot stop the light rain

And I, a dancer on this stage,

Accept the gift of nature's wrath

To spin, to slip, to splash, to cry,

To live and love before I die.

So let me spin beneath the storm,

The night is wild, the air is hot,

And as the thunder shakes the sky,

I feel my soul learning to fly

For sorrow too has its place.

In the drops falling on my face

Remind me, through loss and gain,

I am still alive in the summer rain.

And when the storm finally recedes,

its echoes are soft in the empty streets

I stand alone, still breathing deeply,

with memories the sky will hold

I am reborn, I feel awake,

no longer bound by past mistakes,

for every tear the clouds have shed in return.

the ground I walk on has been blessed.

summer rain comes and goes

yet in my heart its river flows

a secret stream that is always mine,

to call upon in times of trouble,

for when the world feels too dry,

when the days are hard and souls are dying,

i will close my eyes, remember that night,

and dance again in the joy of the rain.