The rain was always dear to him,
The little drops falling from the skies,
Always made him wonder,
How the water changed its forms,
Once it is solid,
The other fluid,
How the earth would rejoice,
Meeting the drops,
The distance turned to a sensation,
It would light up,
Donned in the musk of its glory,
The rain brought him the news of the stars,
The rainbows that split light,
Into colors she didn’t know she had,
And would calm the winds,
Rustle up the slumbering trees,
The weeds too,
Sometimes would dwell inside him,
Would turn the color of his blood,
Golden and dark,
Flow through his eyes,
Onto his guitar,
Onto the canvas,
Neglected for a time so long,
Rain was special to him,
Rain was his sails,
The ships he never sent away……