Dancing in the rain

I danced in the rain
though I knew I’d get wet
and it would take eons for my clothes to dry--
I danced anyway.

I danced
as the clouds erupted
into waterfalls of fury,
like melted glaciers in the sky,
or wicked witches of Oz.

I danced because I could,
because I would.

I danced to defy nature’s wrath
to create rain worthy of gods.

I danced because I felt like dancing,
because moping would do me no good.

I danced to celebrate the rain,
to cleanse myself with it
like Bathsheba in David’s yard.

I danced to expunge myself – to become one with the rain,
like a fairy in a flower just blooming.

I danced to dance,
because my soul danced.

I danced
because soon enough,
the rain began to dance--
it started with one drop and then another,
I heard reggae.

I caught my reflection in a puddle,
just dancing,
dancing.

I caught the rain in a puddle,
just dancing,
dancing.

I danced--
just me and the rain.