There is Nowhere to Be

Poem about sweet relief of rainfall.

While it pours hard and loud on the rooftop,
the rain falling on my face today
is more comparable to sprinkles falling
onto a mound of soft serve ice cream,

and all I can do
is open myself up to it --
my mouth, my arms, wide --
and welcome the million joyful splashes.

How long it has been since the deluge
has felt so light on my shoulders!
I think that there is nowhere in the whole world
to be but here, now.