the season of rainwater
Here's a bright morning pouring sunlight into my room. And, the air touches on my skin, with plenty of water burned by the sun. It has a strong smell that keeps power to bring a season to different stages vigorously.
I think that summer will come again when its steamed steam grazes my nostrils.
A short summer like bubbles.
This was the season of rainwater that was like a thick fog, and the smell of raindrops against soils that grazed through nostrils and gave it a distinctive ambience that would be unforgettable in memories. Such a nostalgic, bewitching and mysterious time.The sound of pouring rain is an unconscious realm that was in an abyss like a deep sea. It stimulated enthusiasm magically inside its secret that evolved little by little, steadily. Heavy rain at times was like fierce waves hitting a rock. Yet its strong belief was not easily broken, holding its heart like seeds dreaming underneath, metamorphosed into the mysterious power.
As the soil that has accumulated a lot of rain is burned by the sun, the air sticks to the skin, which will give off hot steam.
Everything is getting powerful and shapes anew or differently.