Rain

Cold rain in the midst of a warmth of fog.

I stand captivated in it,

Feeling and breathing.

How did I find this freshness,

a renewel of joy amongst sadness.

It surrounds me as I try to flee

to let it move and go forward

instead of letting it become another part of the fog.

Afriad to leave it behind to find its own path.

Afraid I'll lose this joy.

Then as I standand let go of its presence

the wind flows through the fog making the rain cling to me.

The wind pulls the rain away to freedom and helps it along.

So I keep moving for more of what I found in that rain.

To try to grasp the wind that helps the cold rain along.

-ARC 01

(thanks Jeff)