For some reason, I really like rain. Although most people say it makes them feel depressed, it makes me feel happy.
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Slabs of stone
once square and true
over time,
worn down by rain and foot

Here and there pools of water collect
in hollow bowls carved
by the sculptor that is time
beauty in agony

I walk on looking down,
stepping over a slab worn through so far
the bowls joined to form a crack
the stone dead, its beauty shattered

As the rain falls it flows upon the stone
forming pools here and there
a stream flows among the gaps
polishing smooth the edges

And there, a pebble
a time-smoothed sliver of a larger stone
rests awhile upon a beach of rock
catching its breath, its journey paused

But the rain pours down
the roar of water
drowning out the pebble's plea
afraid to move from its dry sanctuary

The stream rises, as i watch
a flow contained within a footpath's cracks
to the pebble, a raging torrent
the water hits it, the pebble moving once more

Its fate, like that of a myriad existences
to be worn away completely
by the gentle caress
the savage buffeting of time

The pebble's destiny sealed
reluctantly i break my own brief interlude
and continue along the stone-bed path
wearing it away with my steps as i go