Under The Rain Poem by Siryoc ( Zeinab Mahsa )

My feet are cold,
And my hands too,
But my heart, it burns so.
I'm walking under the rain,
There are others too;
Walking,
Under their Umbrellas.

Only few know how it feels,
To walk under the incantation of the rain,
Naked.
It feels cold, yet burning.
And only a few know how it feels
When it rushes, gets heavier,
And heavier.

Rain drops grow huge,
They shape tear-like crystals,
They touch you on the skin,
Yet they don't injure,
For they are too delicate and fragile.

They break into many pieces as they hit,
Fly a few distances up,
And then fall.
Reflecting the slightest light around,
You are surrounded by small flashes of light,
You look like a butterfly,
Fluttering in the spring breeze,
Under the sun.