by Jessica L.H. Stanfield
Monday, November 03, 2003
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all that will remain
is the dust from which I came.
And when Iím finally laid to rest,
spread over the rippling, blue ocean,
I will surely miss
the smell of the rain;
the feel of its misty kiss
on my warm skin,
the icy-clean feeling
as it washes away the day.
And though my spirit will still hear it
I will no longer
be able to respond.
But for now,
I am alive and breathing
in that intoxicating, earthy smell.
As others rush by
bitching about getting wet
I turn my face skyward,
allowing my spirit
to shower in,
and be cleansed by,
Mother Natureís holy water.
My spirit celebrates
in the healing power
of Her loving rain
and regrets that one day,
I will no longer feel
the majestic healing
of this brilliant downpour.
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|Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader)
|Gorgeous imagery and a awesome piece of prose!
|Reviewed by Al Swanson (Reader)
|Just great Jess, and so clearly spoken too, just loved Al|
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|Most beautiful write Jessica!!
|Reviewed by L M (Reader)
|Reviewed by Rebekah Rosie Lang
|A most Beautiful write!
May I share this with my church
one Sunday? It is just GORGEOUS!
Brava! Brava! Brava!
The lord is shining down on you!
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|wonderful write, jessica; well done! (((HUGS))) and much love, your texas friend, karen lynn. :D|
|Reviewed by George Carroll
|My wife loved to walk in the rain. You have captured it beautifully|
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|A refreshing piece of prose about reality's concept of life. It is wonderful, isn't it?|
|Reviewed by Kate Clifford
|It is raining while I am enjoying this write! :-)|