Nostalgia

Your breath, your smell, your wind, your sound,

Once again they kiss the ground,

Making it soaked in your presence, you want yourself known.

You want to let all souls know, the strength of your blow.

You come year after year, attacking with your mighty Power.

The drops of rain that remind me of water somewhere else;

Back home.

It seems you bring the very essence of home with you;

Like home were embedded in you.

The smell of your rain kissed earth that you possess,

Contrasting with the smell of concrete;

Your sound that of tapping gently, pitter-patter you fall,

For once I forget the noise of the city traffic.

The purple skies you bring, the cheerfulness

That strikes my heart to the quick realization that though

You resemble home you are not it.

Just like you arrive in a mighty blast,

So do you leave;

But not before granting me the solace,

Of being in a home far away from my own