Rain

I seem to be a drop of rain
Moist and smooth
Glazing over you in the spring

My presence is common for some
Rare for others

Smelling fresh and sharp
In your nose
Is a tingling
Sensation

But…

I’m really a universe.
I carry particles of people
Within my cohesive skin.

The tingling is the screaming,
The living citizens.
The presence is cold,
For their habitual ways.

Always the surprise I am.