The Kiss of Rain

This morning I felt the kiss of rain first. Raising my face to the pierced clouds that greyed the sky overhead, I felt the tender touch on my cheeks, like the tentative lips of a new love lingering but briefly. The wet cold melted into my face, followed seconds later by more.

As I walked the valley I saw evidence of what had been a luscious night of earth / water love. The tame trickles had transformed into torrents that rushed gleefully, playfully around the rocks. The kiss on my cheeks was the parting farewell that follows the unbridled loving of storm on Birch, of water's intercourse with Oak and her lusty passion to make earth fertile with life.