Or I would be the rain itself wreathing over the island mingling in the quiet of moist places filling its pores with its saturated breaths. And I would be the wind whispering through the tangled woods running airy fingers over the islands face tingling in the chill of concealed places sighing secrets in the dawn. And I would be the light flinging over the island covering it with flash and shadow shining on rocks and pools softening to a touch in the glow of dusk. If I were the rain and wind and light I would encircle the island like the sky surrounding earth flood through it like a heart driven pulse shine from inside it like a star in flames burn away to blackness in the closed eyes of its night. There are so many ways I could love this island if I were the rain.
