An opal sky

An opal sky
stained with gold, scattered reds,
immense blue,
the afternoon is precious.
And the clouds glide slowly
over the roofs, the roads,
and the cornels, and the pines.
Then, suddenly,
a droplet
and then another
and yet one more.
A bright silver shower
filled with sunlight
before my gaze.
Suddenly everything comes to life,
in the leaves of the hawthorn
I saw your cheeks,
almost glimpsing your face,
your hair,
in the hazel I saw your eyes
and intoxicated by the scent
of this June rain,
nature isn't as much a stranger
as you are to me: faraway creature.

Picture by Christopher Campbell