His dry pockets soaked up the sound
Pattering on the roof or in his heart
His gaze, unrelenting in the summer mist
Fixed on portraits trapped in his mind
He knows he must offer out a gentle hand
The ones before him simply took what they could
The smell of the storm-filled air brings a scent
As he follows it to where it lies, He sees a face
Simple, yet stunning in mid summer's glow
How fortunate was he to come here
In a rain that promised only to drown
Another blessing floated within reach
Tomorrow arrested for the moment
Eyes met, and the world stood still
Rain beat down on his sodden back
Not deterring him from endless amaze
He smiled and laughed and cried within
The wet, painted summer allowed him in
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