the reign of rain

I am not a fan of pedestrian rain.

rain that causally peruses the sky in its passing

then litters the ground

and has a patchy walkaway means from the scene.

I like rain that is more committed.

rain the coughs before it is in sneezing distance.

rain that thinks it has a reputation to uphold.

rain that looks out to see who is watching,

looks for the getaways of human in response.

but better, I like rain that parades,

that has a notion of being majestic,

rain that expects an audience 

from behind closed doors 

with wide-eyeds at their windows.

although the rain I really love

is the rain of anguish.

the rain that hurls of itself,

that spanks the ground 

as if drumbeats intended,

the rain that has an emotional charge,

that has been vanquished from the sky

and then sullies the ground,

whisperingly bitches in its free-fall.

a rain so anguishing

that it demands to be heard as flood bearing.

a rain that curses the sky 

and the clouds it rode in on.

a rain of sweeping misery in its slush-gathering.

a rain so besmirched of its own accord

that it looks forward towards flooding,

to rumble with oncoming debris

and wants compensation for its delivery,

begging by volume 

for human attention over otherwise disregard.

this is the rain of widespread.

the rain of deluge in open-mouth pouring forth way.

a rain that attempts to tell the backstory of the sky,

that has thunder and lightning as folk heroes. 

a rain that wants to meet its ancestry,

be that at stream, river or rest-assured ocean.

radical but still viscus, 

well-meant nurturing but in a overwhelm way.

it's rain that reigns.

that's my kind of heartfelt and inspiring . . .