They tell me I wouldn’t like
the rain if I lived it, in a place
where it doesn’t stop for days.

They tell me I don’t understand
because I am native to sun. It’s
not me that doesn’t understand.

There is a voice inside that
sings and sighs when rain
enfolds me.

Grey skies and pattering quiets
me, hushes the fuss, makes space
for me to listen.

I refuse umbrellas, let
water splash upon my
toes in sandaled feet.

I welcome the rain to touch
my skin, drench my hair,
clear away my sadness.

They don’t understand
rain like I do. Kiss me in
the rain, and I am yours.