Drip. Drip. Drip.
I stand quietly as the rain falls around me for I am perched atop a hill under the safety of my small umbrella. I stand silent. Just as I am, silence prevails around the land, or so it seems in my mind. A man is speaking, though I do not heed his words. It is as though his lips are moving, though nothing escapes. All that I can sense is the rain falling softly around me. I watch warily as delicate drops find their descent off the spokes of my umbrella.
Falling, falling, falling.
Until they are just another fragment of moisture in the ground that is hued of green with specks of brown. When rain begins, one is fully aware of the situation around them. But as the precipitation continues on, it becomes acknowledged as it’s just rain.
Just rain.
And drop by drop, splash by splash, pitter by patter, rain is just meager blurs of transparency passing our eyes. They are nothing more.
And sometimes we focus on the rain, watching it fall. And we’ll chose a small drop in the bunch. Just a random speck. And our eyes will quickly flash as we view it’s quick plummet. And as we watch it hit the ground, it’s short life deteriorating, it’s natural that we may wonder... why?
How come rain doesn’t fall slower? How come it passes by so quickly?
Created by a cloud, then seconds later losing it’s life to the rugged ground below. And as each one drop falls, the cloud gets smaller and smaller. And before you know it, the cloud is gone. It loses power and soon enough, it has disappeared. What was once such an ominous cloud, is now a blue sky. And with it, thousands, upon millions of rain drops have become a part of the ground now. Burying themselves into their new home of land.
But these drops will bring life. These drops will help to sustain other natural beauties. Grass will perk back up, regaining it’s dose of chlorophyll, reaching a vivid green. Flowers will begin to bud, quenching any drop of this moisture they can to fulfill their pulchritudinous colors. Though a storm has passed, the sun will soon peak out of these rain clouds, radiating its heat below to its children.
And as I stand here, watching an accurately carved chest being placed under this moisturized terrain, I hope for the same. I hope for beauty to rise from the falling of another. I hope for clouds to get smaller. I hope for the thousands upon millions of fallen to find a new home in the ground.
And though I hope for most, I know one thing unquestionably; Sunny days shall follow.
