Understanding Rain

I am the rain when all passion is stripped away, or rather when all passions collide. The burning flame deep inside ceases to rage, it simmers down to a faint flicker, and the rain makes its tiny wet fingerprints on the window glass.

As the rain, I feel nothing and everything at once. Rain is devoid of emotion and yet is every emotion combined swirling together unrecognizable at a distance. A tapestry of woven thread, where a single strand can only be seen when focused on intently.

Snow is beautiful and nice to look at and escape into, but it is pure fantasy. It is soft and silent, coming in and going out. A fairytale world of sleepy trees and the whole world holds its breath to see if wild creatures will emerge from hiding. White crystals keep the air thick with unasked questions.

But rain; rain is raw and real. It causes me to come outside myself and see things I wouldn’t normally see, understand things I wouldn’t normally understand. It forces me to face the truth and confront who and what I am. Rain cannot be ignored as life cannot be ignored. Every surface it hits brings forth a different sound.

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