I opened my eyes. I looked out at the twinkling stars, I put my palm to the window, watching. The heavy droplets cascaded down the pane of glass. I moved closer, the window fogged with each exhale, as I breathe. Each droplet descends from the heavens above. Each droplet of purified water, a mission. To quench the the thirst of the earth. I move my face to the window, the glass felt cold against my cheek. With my hand pressed firm against the window, I close my eyes. I listen, the smooth steady beat of the water droplets, Mimicked the song of my heart as it thumped effortlessly against my chest. My eyes opened once again, without a thought, I lift the window, and climb out.
The mud sucked at my bare feet, the wind whipped my hair every which way. I threw my head back and stared up at the sky. It was a picture, painted with bright oranges, purples, and pinks. It was beautiful. A feeling of mirth bubbled up inside me only to come roaring out. I stretched my arms out, I spun in endless circles my mouth open wide, anxious to taste the bitter sweetness as the rain prickled at my skin. 'Just Beautiful' I whispered.
I ran back to the window, though I could stay in this forever. The sun would be up soon, I knew. I ran a hand over my face to rid myself of the dark locks sticking to my forehead. Just as I was going to climb back in....I turned back to the rain. And not only was it the rain I saw. But just like at the end of every rainstorm. There, peeking out from beneath the clouds, was a rainbow....I smiled at it.
When people see rain, they see it as 'bad weather'. But when I see rain, I think it's beautiful. Rain may be seen as just 'bad weather', Even so, at the end....there's a rainbow. A promise. There's just something. Something about the rain. The way it bounces gracefully off of your skin. Something more than just a way to quench the dry cracked grounds of the earth...
I linger for a moment, letting myself drown in something more than just a flood, before climbing back inside through the window. As I sit, I put my hand back to the pane of glass. I listen again, I try to remember what it sounded like. Not just the rain, but everything. I wonder, could I of stopped it from happening? If I had the choice. Would I ?
I settle back into bed, and Watch the small little droplets
D
R
O T
P E
L
As I drift off , away from the rain, and into sleep.....
D . R . O . P . L . E . T . S .
By: Zia N. Stephens
