The Rain

i walked slowly in the soft rain
settling on my coat
instead of bouncing off as a pellet would in the harsh rain;
the droplets gathered on my hatless head,
wandering down my face as I opened my mouth as if to drink the cleansing fluid.
after another few moments of the slow walk,
i broke into a run,
like a colt showing his heels to the world.
the spirit inside burst into a triumphant yell
complimenting the green surroundings of the wet day:
not damp, not murky:
encompassing,
free, wide, open.
a fleeting moment one only
captures in a lifetime perhaps.
the sun broke through the clouds.
the rain was over.

Nashville, Tennessee
1966