SoulReserve

Rain’s Childplay

The rain has fallen,
after much drizzle;
And the raucous of thunder,
that sounded more like it would recede, before;
But now that it has spilled,
it is spent, in the arms of the mother;
Who is stroking it, gently
holding it’s ebb within;
Precious child of nature,
rolling on the ground,
hiding itself under the carpet of grass,
for the drops can’t decide,
what is final?;
This gratifying embrace,
or the cycle up to the clouds again.

© soulreserve 2015

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