As a Tree Thirsts for Rain

Day by day, I await your coming.
Sometimes, I'd think that I feel you near me, hearing that lively little laugh, seeing that blithe little dance…
But, it wasn't you just yet.

Day by day, I await your coming.
I thirst for your passion to once again fill me, and keep me nourished.
But, it isn't you just yet.

Day by day, I await your coming.
Shall you come to me soft and tender, like little sparks, or harsh and unforgiving, like the crash of the waves on the shore?
But, it never is you just yet.

Day by day, I await your coming.
It has been long, very long, and I have been dying inwardly while watching the slightest sign of you.
But, it never was you just yet.

Finally, you come.
First, leisurely. Bit by bit, as if trying to tell me that you've missed me, and to make me think of you as a delicate shard of stained glass, daintily dancing at the edge of a cliff.
Then, swift. All of a sudden, rushing, pouring, unrelenting, giving me all the love I've been waiting for for so long. Until…

It stops.
You slowly ebb away, drifting quietly away with the storm. With a promise?

…

But, it wouldn't be to be with you again just yet.

…

Maybe.

PS: Forgive me, my poetry's a little rusty n.n;;