A figure stood drenching in the rain,
Eyes half closed and a soft smile did play.
The drops disappeared among the clothes and hair,
The figure slowly turned and swirled away.
There was no rhythm, no music was played,
But the mind was perhaps in a different state.
The eyes opened and the yearning was there,
It seeked and searched for another pair.
But the figure was lonely and smiled away,
Lifted her cheeks to invite the falling rain.
Every drop was a kiss from the sky,
It liberated the tensions and emotion coiled.
The hands outstretched to receive the rain,
As if it had the power to wash away all the pain.
The figure was isolated in the sphere of its own,
The fingers tickled the falling drops that slid away soon.
The thunder called and the soul responded,
Tried to tear away the shackles to which it was bonded.
Solitude, peace and calmness were attained,
On the day when I stood, drenching myself in the rain.