First rains are like a Mother's kiss,
gentle soft and pristine pure;
A sign that all, that was and is
will last forever and endure.
Rains that follow are but a child's
joyful, uninhibited play;
Careless fun and ever wild,
outpourings of delights of day!
Then comes the torrent of the youth,
blinding sheets to drench the senses;
A flooding of refreshing truth
no more childish, weak defenses.
The last drops of the rain are wise,
With age comes solace in goodbyes…
©
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