Steam
The sky is talking
opening in peals of light and sound
rain comes like a blessing
earlier, claustrophobic sticky heat pressing down on sweat-slick skin
that crackles to the touch
gardens launguish, flaccid in this sauna of oppression under a colorless sky
Then, without warning, the heavens open wide
mist rises from the fields
fat cool droplets fall
steam rises from my skin
as I shed my clothes and dance with the land
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Into the Center 
This made me smile. : ) : ) How did you do that? I love the poetry too.
Thanks Santha! I was having fun with long exposures on a tripod in the rain.
You’re speaking a foreign language. ; )
Oops, sometimes I accidently slip into “photospeak”.
heh, preserve the mystery! I am enjoying getting to know your work.
Thanks for transporting me to a beautiful place with a beautiful person. I love that you’ve captured yourself as well. . .
I’m so enjoying your blog.
xoxo
Thanks Carin! Purrrrrrrrrrrrr!