The gates of heaven
Cuts the darkened sky in half
Thunder, its herald
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From a single drop
To streaks and blurs like needles
Enveloping all
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Dripping from the trees
Filling the roots of the earth
Nature its vessel
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Drops upon my skin
From brow to ends of finger tips
Embraced by the cold
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Rain drops make ripples
Ripples born from footsteps
Fade as it were made
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The shaking of trees
Gale and crackles of leaves
Heavens symphony
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The rain can wither
And wash away all footsteps
Except memories
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Though the storm may clear
Time cannot erase nor fade
The touch of heaven
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-graydarksoul-
