Spring Rain

Spring rain washes dust from
the yellow rose petal, igniting color,
awakening fragrance. Petal by petal,
the world grows brighter.

I lift my face to the brooding sky,
and feel on my cheeks the same
cleansing elixir, heaven drops
that penetrate the residue of life
and soften my anxious heart.

Around me, people run for cover,
heads shielded by newspaper,
collars turned up, umbrellas popping
open to deflect the divine gift.
And here I stand.

Until I can contain it no longer.
Until I cannot withstand the
absolute necessity to dance.
I have uncontrollable feet
whose purpose in life is to splash
in puddles of laughing water.

While others wait for the
storm to pass, I stand,
arms raised to welcome the
delicious downpouring. And
I feel a hand grasp mine,
a clear invitation to twirl
like a dervish who cannot
control the delight.

Spring rain produces flowers
in my heart, yellow roses
watered by wonder,
decoration for the
divine dance.