The smell of the rain
Fresh-brewed tea on my tongue
Happy birds flitting about with their shaggy heads and dripping feathers
The soft pat on the leaves drowning out everything else
Strange how the small drops all together turn into a roar
My cup is so full — a child in my belly, a wet dog at my feet, a husband across the way doing what he loves and then coming home to me
Every now and then the wind-chimes
A mist gathers on the floorboards of the porch, cool dewdrops soothing over the early summer heat
I like the dampness on my bare feet
This sensory oasis —
It brings me back to the real world
Or maybe it takes me back to the false one
But this is my serenity, my grounding moment that blows oxygen on the embers of who I am
The smell of the rain