Deluge

Deluge

"You are perfect." You say

It doesn't mean a thing.

The drops from the sky are perfect, too

Each are proportionate

Creating a perfectly timed beat

On the sidewalk.

I'll never be first; I'll never be last‐

To never compare is the raindrop,

Whose sacred body sprouts something

More lovely than itself.

Praising the pigmented kaleidoscope of vegetation,

Ignoring the cries of "I did this!"

Its presence reminding us of the pedaled beauty of it's past

Tell the rain it's perfect,

Let's see what it says when it knows

You marvel

At daises

In

Your

Head.