Song of the After-Rain

Song of the After-Rain

The clouds piled high,

and covered the world.

Heavy and majestic,

yet their ending was already decided.

I became lightning

and shook those clouds.

As a catalyst, as a signal,

so that the rain would fall.

The rain finally poured down,

washing away the dust, soaking the roads,

and new sprouts pushed out their faces.

But what I loved

was not the rain itself.

I always

loved what comes after the rain.

The clear air, the newly opened road,

the moment when the light grows more vivid.

There, I knew:

now was the beginning.