I'm Still Waiting...

Nothing is more refreshing than a rainstorm with its fiery spring effervescences it's as though you can hear a feather fall. The air fizzes with a fresh drinkable breath as if it were exhaled by the Almighty Himself it fills languid sails; stirs a blackbird home. The world is like a wet linen cloth steaming dripping like a bent-over willow leaf I remember waiting for my parents to return from work. Pacing the garden thinking, I'm still waiting when will you be back home, now I'm old it's still the same long wait only to place unknown.