Poème: Le temps de l’émancipation

Obstinate and determined the raindrop withholds its spirit,
She cannot wait to reunite with the soil,
Her pathway often hindered by an umbrella.

The young shepherdess watched the raindrops pearl up on her boots,
A gentle breeze ruffles her curls,
The ripples in the stream hypnotise her,
Pursuing the sillage, she's lost in a daydream.

She would hum a song,
She milked the sheep,
As she beat the fresh butter gently,
She would smell a hint of petrichor wafting from the ladle.

The sky grows darker,
The growling thunder drowns all the sounds,
The shepherdess isn't able to trace the singing cricket,
She paces towards a shelter, catches her breath,
Under the lampost, she spreads her arms wide open,
She embraces the pelting rain.

The drizzle caresses her visage,
The raindrops pearl upon her forehead,
Her heart overflows with euphoria, as she twirls full of life.

An impending storm is at bay,
a thick blanket of fog and dew blinds her,
but she continues to tread like a boat in a river,
It's freezing...
Into the edge of the woods, she disappears into the wilderness.
My eyes filled with complete astonishment.