The Memory of Rain

I like the smell of rain That permeates my nose a little time before miraculously fat drops start falling on my head . They bring a joyful feeling that I can not explain. those clouds have traveled for so long I suppose, They come from faraway . They carry laughs , tears, flavors that slide on our rooftops . The loving sound of kisses , enchanting songs and whispers . The sweat of lonely farmers , the noise of fishing boats . Because to me ,each drop of crystal water brings memory’s life notes . Wet stories from the past and its eternal trotter . The never ending process of hydrologic roams . Imagine if we could, translate the noise of raindrops. We’ll find in one of them a sweet tale of endurance. The story of a grandpa and a curious little girl, all crazed about the hints of any welcomed rain . Preparing paper boats to set them on gray currents and hoping that they stayed afloat. To keep their little happiness As a forever revery , a minimal footnote that floats inside a circle , the circle of rain’s memory .