In your gentle whisper, in dreams that got woven and in stories that got told,
The innocence of childhood, my outstretched arms tried to hold.
Yes, the paper boat washed away but the color of memories, will they ever fade?
The first taste of freedom, white and clear; the fresh smell of pain, raw and red?
The times when you lashed out in a torrent of utter rage,
Wiping out all that was practiced and scripted, leaving behind just the blank page.
Insidious and relentless, you hammered away, at times, in vain,
Washing away reason and control with bleak madness and pain.
You teased and tormented stoking the ache of longing in the play of love and hate,
Amid the stolen glances, the forced distances, and the seemingly endless wait.
But they said run away, don't dream in the rain,
Beyond the poetry and pain, lie the everyday mundane.
Muddy shoes, endless snaking traffic and a sick child’s cough,
Did you wonder why none but children found you gloomy and tough?
But I loved you best, rain, when you drenched me senseless and free,
Happy sharing you with a smile, a caress, a book and tea.
I see you today again,
The pellets of dreams, the drops of hope,
I see you today, rain,
Not your whisper, not your anger, not my happiness, not my pain,
But a second chance to relive,
My lost childhood again.