ALS

It rained very hard tonight. The sky emptied in torrents over the thirsty and heated gardens of the city.

I stood at the open window in the early hours of the morning today, full of anticipation, of the scented impressions created by the night's continuous rain.... I sucked the cool and fresh air greedily into my lungs and felt directly vitalized.
But contrary to my expectations, I also perceived the scent of a rose.
The rose we are talking about here is green and not yet in full bloom.
It is rather of the category of delicate ballerina, which sways supple in the wind and hums quietly to the ripple of the water, which still falls from the gutters.
Not a diva, loudly flaunting her vocal prowess in front of an assembled audience in a red velvet gown.
This rose dances gracefully, yet also somewhat timidly across the still damp grass. She dances only for herself and yet everyone watches her.
I close my eyes and take another deep breath. It's a special, almost limited moment. And I think- You! You, or someone like you.

Actually, I just wanted to write a comment, but then suddenly the muse kissed me in the form of a green rose:-)

This is my first statement, so please be nice?