Falling in love was a first the most uncertain drizzle,

a hesitancy marked by soft droplets
and a fear of rejection.

Then falling in love was a new rain, a spring rain
a rain plopping questions into my lap.
They were answered honestly, defenselessly (though with fear in my chest).

Falling in love then surprised me because it drenched me
like a rainstorm that appeared over my head out of nowhere
and left me soaking wet and whirling but alive.

After that falling in love involved buckets (quite a few in fact)
as I collected all that rain and saved it
for the growing garden in my heart.

Falling in love didn’t really have a final stage;
one day I was falling and then one day I landed
in a giant bucket of love-water.  It’s cozier than it sounds.