The rain is transformative.
Gathering in your hair, dripping down to stain
your shirt.
Denting the soft dirt, creating puddles.
Tapping out a melody on the leaves.
The rain is magical.
Windows become kaleidoscopes of color,
as the rain pirouettes from the sky, and dances across the glass.
Clinging to cobwebs, it creates a tapestry of droplets.
The rain is mercurial.
Bursting through the sunny sky, painting rainbows in the clouds.
It caresses your face, before suddenly turning into angry hail.
The rain is obstinate.
Drowning out our protests, it steadily pours down.