The sky looks down from its perch,
it seems wise and gray.
The earth below observes carefully,
not knowing which emotion is more appropriate, eagerness or fear.
From the distance it hard to comprehend,
will it face the wrath or gentle caressing.
The sky, with its belly bursting,
oscillates between parenthood and headmaster.
With a raised brow it unleashes its fury.
The initial rage is hard to accept,
the pain, the sting, with little pellets attacking.
Soon the anger subsides,
gentle drops kiss earth again.
The love, the affection is overwhelming.
The silver drops of joy encompassing.
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