I danced in the rain just now
soaked with laughter
pelted with joy
baptized with Holy water
It began softly
a summer storm lullaby at the close of the sultry day
and as rains often do
it drew me to the porch shelter
where a cool mist of pleasure glazed skin and soul
But the rain grew bolder
a drumming pulse of remembered desire
like an altar call or a snake-charmer’s song
beckoning me to dance wildish
a downpour now insisting
demanding I join the tempest
calling me to the toe-tapping dance of Life
and Death
until I could sit no longer
Into the rain I ran
splashing to rhythms of thunder
pulsing with strobing lightening
spinning beyond the grasp of mere existence
alive in the vibration of living energy
Did anyone else dance?
It mattered not to me
Nor to the rain
I have had the worst kind of time pulling words to evoke the luscious pleasure of the rainstorm that soaked my body and soul a few weeks ago. Spiritual and sensual, it called from within my deepest being with orgasmic freedom to dance.
Poem or prose? I’ve tried both, and so far these are my better attempts to word the unwordable.
Original photo by Dorothy Barkley Bryson "Over the York" May 5, 2021, iPhone 8
TO CONNNECT. I would love to hear from you and learn how this piece (or any of my other writings here) resonate with you and your journey to finding your own deepest self, your own Real. While these writings are about my path, my hope is that they shine light for yours. You can email me directly at barkleybryson41@gmail.com or you can also simply subscribe via the home page of this website. May peace and happiness be yours, always.
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