Whenever it rains, I get this weird feeling that it knows all the ideas that pops into my mind.
Rain for me is an eye, a lonely one at that. Normally an eye needs companion to share tears with but rain has no one else to turn to … the lightning, the thunderstorm, the hurricane—those are bad mixed up for which she opts to upstage them by pouring out heavily. Rain serves as the witness to all the laughters and miseries of the world.
Rain is so lovely to me, transparent but never too dark and as I touch her she looks so real as she soothes, embraces my soul in a gentle way and for that I can easily share the many stories, prayers, begging’s, and pleas only she would want to hear.
As rain pours heavily, everything in me seems visible to her. She takes my breath away, letting me go insane, setting my spirit free, crying out loud all the aches I feel inside and when iam done she suddenly whisper to me” it’s okay everything will just turn out fine”.
Rain is a lover to me. She touches me in many ways. I feel the rain stealing kisses, the warm embrace, patting my shoulder an assurance that she will be a great companion to reminisce, to frown, to cry, to smile to wind up or even play with whenever I miss to be a kid and the gentle breeze that takes over me after the rain is the promise of a new a day—to wait until it rains again … my companion, my lover. My friend.