Armour in a rain suit

What don't you see.

Is - the blindness of a tree.

That forbiden nature.

Where the sound of rain,

Jusitfies a moisture which runs deep...

Into the roots of your mind.

To the eye everything hides,

inside an echo chamber of your secret self.

I love the sound of rain.

It heals me.

That feeling.

The sensation I feel as the rain hits me.

How it plummets.

How it pounds on the shell of my skull.

How it resuscitates my soul as if it were fire.

And this deep connection isn't partly to blame,

because only when it rains,

does the wind whisper a song on the pavement.

The song happens on from a hevaenly choir,

when angels cry its a song being sung for the earth to finally feel it's alive.

(And the rainfall darkens the sky.)

It's so beautiful.

So peaceful.

So calming.

So wonderful.

I feel richer than the sun as it has escaped from time.

And this time for rain, 

became a master for these words.

I feel it all,

and I can cry - finally

Just - sobbing over this unbelievable sense of guilt,

this guilt that purges my body - the rain melts it all away.

(I am in love for this brief moment.)

And reality has surpassed my longings.

Longings... of utter defeat.

It's strange what this temperature does to me, this unmistakable temperature that my heart presides.

Maybe that's the mystery.

There is no science to it.

Just rain.

- Marco Almeida ©️ 2025