If you stay dry and under cover
you’ll miss the newly washed
world outside.
You can still catch remains
of the potent draft –
heavenly dew hanging in the air,
too light to have
fallen with the rain.
And the wind’s sweet breath
is here too,
come from many worlds away,
muttering with a distant tongue,
murmuring the finest fragments
of the first words.
Mingle with this good company,
be doused clean with
resurrected water,
get baptized in this instant.
Breathe in the pristine air-dew
that has journeyed for
countless years,
been spun by planets,
pulled by comets,
lit by stars —
refashioned light.
If you close your eyes,
drink in slowly
the lingering water,
you might taste Jupiter.