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 .
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