We are the rainwatchers
He and I.
I see circles circling circles.
The single file line on the rim of the roof
Suspended like icicles
Like transparent angels
Like infinite promises
Quiet and clear.
He sees them better than I do.
His eyes are softer than mine.
He sees dancing and splashy fish
Bringing glowing plankton from the bottom of the sea.
The magic of the sun
Falling to us to be lapped up
And fill us full of belief in the way things could be
Or how wonderful they already are.
It is a festival, a gala, an extravaganza
The falling of the rain
for him
for me
for us
the rainwatchers.
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