Poetry Part Deux

Love Rain O'er Me

Be like water, my friend.
And with it, the power to adapt, to live, to the bitter end.
In the rain, the droplets fall, flashing and fleeting bits of coolness.
And happiness it brings, to be misted and kissed by the sky.
But with time, to think, to wonder, to fester, it becomes an unknowable beast.
And the rain will not return.
Destruction left in the wake of the storm is difficult to repair, but must be fixed.
The sudden onset brings about the realization of being tricked.
Water from all high is a two-headed monster.
One seductive and beautiful, if only to feed the other.
Is it possible for the rain to return? The gentle pitter-patter of pleasure?
It can't be measured.