Skies opened
I continued walked
As if there is no tomorrow,
I traced the cascading outpour
on my coarse face
smiling at the watery hug;
it soaked me
as if I was a tree
placed in His garden
needing quenching
needing cleansing
among the puddled earth
among the fallen flowers and fruit;
I pick up the fruits and withered browns
Drenched
to the core,
I taste the white sap
nestling it deep inside
after the outpour.
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