Rain

Why is it that the rain
always brings me back to reality?
With a sharp tug I drop
back to the nomal dreary earth

It's life you see,
I'm not down but I'm not up.
In the garden the colourful
bright, beautiful flowers
soak up little droplets of life
the rain makes them grow upward.

The weeds, those yellow dandelions
cover the normally lush,
green grass, heads upturned
reaching, stretching for the rain.

I want to be out there!
Jumping in all the puddles
standing on my tip toes
arms out-stretched, reaching
drenching myself, in pure water
cleansing myself of it all.

Buds, become little cups
and each catch the drizzle of water
passing it along, sharing it
until it falls to the ground and soaks in

I envy the little blackbird
sat in the tree, shaking the droplets off
No water falls into my
cupped, waiting hands
I'm not even outside
I will not get to feel the oh so cleansing rain
as it trickles down my back,
chasing away my fears as it goes......