As the first drops of rain come down from the sky,
I look up yearning for more.
More rain, more thunderstorms, more lightnings
to energize and charge my tired soul.

I stand in the eye of the storm,
soaking in the delicate droplets of water as they increase and multiply,
becoming stronger, more violent, demanding to erode my parched skin.

The smell of wet soil is intoxicating,
I feel my lungs fill with this sweet scent
and I immediately wake up from my summer sleep.

Drenched, rejuvenated, reborn with water, air and cold,
I raise my hands towards the massive grey clouds and
set myself free.

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