The Evening Ball

Dim sunlight

In the middle of the dark;

Silhouettes of tall trees

Open their arms in awe

Of the splendid night sky,

Welcoming the bright dancers

And their pale, dented host,

Clapping with their abundance of hands

After a gentle wind’s musical boast.

Rain showers in a downpour fashion.

Puddles waltz together in circle formation.

Clash go the heavenly cymbals!

Water leaps to greet the stranger

And red rain boots stomp through.

Jumping, laughing and spinning

With a grin across her wet face,

She, with no raincoat or name,

Dances on and in the rain.

She feels life and the tears of God,

Through the clouds,

Soak her through and

God tells her why he’s sad.

That’s when she feels

Insignificant but important.

That’s when she feels alive.