why the rain tastes sweet even when it is cold

with you,
i see the lightning cracks in the sky
more clearly, but i run away and hide from thunder
i could better smell the air become musky,
or sweet or become the purest oxygen,
i taste the rain, and could tell if it
is recycled or leftover rain from years
of endless drought,
i do not transform into trees that bend
with the wind, a gnome that knows 
where all the pot of gold is hidden,
or when the first drops of rain would come
dripping from sullied windows, 
i do not become a heroine with tunnel vision,
yet the world takes on a spin without me,
without me falling into a purple haze,
everything is not sound, not safe all the time,
like the mouths of rivers that fall into seas
that become oceans,
with you, islands are still islands, alone out there
a rose is still a rose, that will wither without water
and i am still a simple girl, eyes and a heart and a mind
of her own,
i could hear myself between breaths,
saying somehow, it all makes sense,
i make sense
and i am more alive

Reviews

[Emily B]

Sometimes I listen so hard that I forget to breathe even though I am afraid of what I could hear. I try to remember that it is all part of the adventure

[Simon Welsh]

Pricks up the senses. Good job.

[highonwords]

thank you, elliott, for your words

[Leslie Philibert]

I picked this from the many you sent me : I`m glad I read this.Lots of unusual imagery, a poem that looks both inside and outside..

[highonwords]

thank you, leslie, it is nice to hear from you again