Rain.

Oxalis, Purple Shamrock

The TV is on, but low in volume when I looked up.
It's raining.
I love rain.

I switch off the tv,
I open the back door to listen.
I sit on the stoop to watch.

The sounds are soft and pleasing to my ears.

There's a low rumbling in the distance
and splats of water hitting the stone path.
A tinkling of bells disturbed by a gentle breeze.

The steady falling rain mesmerizes me.

There are little pools that display never ending circles on the cement.
The Redbud leaves catch little drops
And hold them long enough for me to see.

Birds have left the sky to take cover somewhere.
The grass seems to stand up at attention,
Delicate white flowers bow their heads in thanks.

And so do I.