poetic interlude #3- let it rain / pula

I’ve never prayed for rain before,

placed my hands up to the sky

and called into the clouds.

Now, I do. Now, when I feel the drizzle,

I breathe again. I dance wildly.

I cup it in my hands to drink.

It tastes like copper and sugar.

Nothing is as sweet as this.

I can feel the lightning in the air,

petrichor descending.

I am alive again.

I am human again.