On a rainy day today,
one of those where I would spend hours
watching the roads become wet and gleaming,
when the lights light up and reflect light
in the fleeting puddles at their feet
seems that the sky color of my soul,
and the meaning of his crying,
a difficult concept to explain in words,
the ecstasy that binds to the heart is sad
and the invisible threads of disappointment.
then realize that there is no sadness
and gray takes on the colors of a rainbow faded,
a future possibility to paint with smiles to come,
such as those drawing on fogged glass
from which I view the world.
Is there life in the rain,
a picturesque universe from which to draw
the shape of events.
And I like to imagine drop between the drops,
hold hands, and the nearest land in that puddle,
to allow the lamp to reflect its light still,
some way for travelers seeking shelter
from the anguish of existence.
How beautiful is the rain,
as it will be nice tomorrow's sun,
how beautiful this world,
too much for me to suffer,
not to imagine the Infinite.