The first hail in my journeys


A shower is all it takes for spontaneity
It also justifies madness.
Singing and dancing,
jumping in the dirt.

A shower lifts up your spirits.
You close your eyes,
you breathe in the smell,
of the wet earth and of flowers.

You let the drops hit you,
 lightly at first, and then
the water slaps you,
washing you with mirth.


Don't be fooled by the water.
It showers overwhelming emotions.
It can mend broken hearts.
While the breeze caresses you,
and wet clothes stick to your skin.

The first piece of hail on your palms.
You stare at the cold, solid form at first.
Then touch it and you jump again
and scream and watch it melt.