This continuous rain fills up the day and night with an incessant downpour dropping all the lilac flowers and peony petals to the ground. This cold rain mocks us this spring while lightning circles the sky and thunder falls into itself. How have we changed you and I and yet stayed the same like this spring morning that comes back to us every year--like a gold ring reached for at a carousel. Every year it comes back to us anew, seeing it for the first time again and again, tasting the rain as if it were air. Somehow, too, our sins of transgressions seem washed from us, cleansed in a deeper way than ever before by this flood of spring rain that serves to remind us once again that there is a first of first times for everything--over and again. We reach for that golden ring on this carousel ride which carries us together to a different yet same place while the world turns slowly through its orbit and the rain, oh the rain, this continuous rain, falls to the ground.
at the carousel-- first your face then mine