The morning rain
opens up the Spring,
and washes the soul
of the sky.

Carrying piles of love letters
and combing her hair,
the young woman is smiling.

The arrowhead that is aimed
at the heart of love
is tautly pulled
against the rainbow
floating above it.

That was the threat.
That was the ostentation.
That was the promise.

The cleanly washed,
unblemished heart
is embraced by
the sweet whispers of
a lover sharing the
emotions of cloud and rain.

Oh!
Burning love like the inside
of a pomegranate.