Daylight breaks the drought and fast

Spilling from Sky’s ink-blue flask

Heaven kisses earth at last

In matrimony rays to bask

Sanctuary skybells ring

Thunder, lightning’s silver strings

Melodies on sheets in spring

Honey moonlight’s chorus sings

Expectant, pregnant clouds give birth

Baby showers; micro bursts

Misting married hearts with mirth

Rainbows knit mother pearl’s earth

Pitter, patter; beauty made

Blades of grass bend, heavy-weighed

Bow of weeping willow, played

Cradled, rivers rock and sway

The last time I saw you

it was a rainy day

The sky cried

so did I

but the raindrops

washed my tears away.

The first time a boy made me cry, it had started sprinkling the second the first tear fell. I always think about what could've happened. Him telling me he liked me, me hugging him and spinning in the rain. I have never been an openly romantic person, but when it rains, a part of my heart swells because I always think of romance when it rains. I think of playing in puddles with someone, laughing so loud that the neighbors get pissed off, sitting in the living room on the floor with someone, telling stories as the cloud ladened sky serves as a backdrop.

The sky sheds its weight in cold slivers

Which plopped on the wet pavement​​ I was sat on.

Their journey is long, though I'll never know the distance...

They scatter before I can ask them.

These ancient waters, from the primordial seas

Hold ancient secrets of the dawn of the world.

Its surface they knew and know better than me

In oceans they've run, in storms they've swirled.

They will never tell, but I'll always want them

To spill those mysteries as they run and lie,

But their patience transcends generations.

A hundred-billion people did they deny.

Curling up on the cherry color bench swing, I rub my feet together slightly to shift the pink fuzzy socks that barely cover the bottom of my leggings. I bury my head farther into my fuzzy jacket as I listen to "Feeling Whitney" and the soft sound of the rain hitting the roof.

"And I've been looking for someone to put up with my bullshit"

A sob escapes me making me shake in sadness. These days that I usually savor are now tainted by the memory of you.

"I can't even leave my bedroom so I keep pouring"

The last time one of these days came along I was not sad, in fact, I was content leaning against you for warmth, with my coffee that was technically just creamer. I will never understand what you liked most about the bitter black coffee you loved, but I do know I loved you. So much.

"And I ain't seen a light of day since, well, that's not important"

So as I listen to the soothing rain, curled up on my cherry-colored bench I can't help but to cry in rhythm with the sky's tears as I remember you and your bitter black coffee.

"Its been long"

Please remember to cherish your loved ones :)

Rain trickled past sparse hairs;

racing by sprinkled freckles on pale skin. Soggy Fridays

drew in depressing thought,

his mind saturated in melancholy black,

soaking every idea with the saddened weight.

“ You aren’t good enough.”

“ Why are you like this?”

“Do you really think they like you?”

Suddenly, the dark fog clears;

cracks, shards fall,

a boy

with sunshine woven in his smile

is spotted beaming

through the fragments.

“It’ll be okay.” the boy wrapped

a delicate hand on the others shoulder.

The blinding smile,

dampened

allowing vision to trail to deep chestnut eyes, and in his eyes the other could

see the dark haze clouding

the spring-like visage,

“We are going to be okay.”

The bright boy finished.

Splash!

My sneaker landed square in the puddle. I had not been paying attention. My mind was on the distant, white tents crowded on the lawn, in Central Park.

My foot sunk to the ankle. Since it was a summer shoe, it filled quickly of water and soil. I contemplated taking my sneakers and socks off and walking through the rest of the park on the grass. That thought passed as quickly as it arrived.

The wind shifted. It approached from the area of the tents. I ran; it was in vain, of course. If the virus wanted to have me, it would take me. Besides, it was raining. I was safe - I hoped.

I got home soaked to the skin. While I unpeeled my clothes, I sneezed.

My nightmare that night?

I was the temple whore that was ravaged by the king.

The rain has its purpose. Some believe it’s to make the plants grow. Some argue it’s God’s way of cleansing the Earth. Some say it’s to wash dirty cars that never successfully made it to the car wash on time. As the water from the clouds hit the pavements, making the concrete turn a darker shade of grey, we tend to ignore the beauty of it. Photographers have captured the essence of rain, and focused in on the raindrops upon the bright green leaves, or the colorful flowers during the spring season. Why do most tend to ignore it? Is it because rain is so common that it’s something we are used to? Is it because we are so busy that we tend to miss out on the beauty of nature? Not to any surprise, there is no right answer to this question. Rain can be seen negatively, with traffic jams, huge puddles that wet your socks, frizzy hair, and squeaky shoes. On the other hand, the more admirable one, rain can symbolize a time of reflection, appreciation of nature, and most importantly peace. As you close your eyes and turn off your car radio, sit there in silence, and just listen to the drops of water falling on the car. Acknowledge the tranquility that is produced when you just STOP for a second and take everything into consideration. Thoughts are built up, for the better and ocasionally for the worse, and it enables one to think instead of quickly making decisions they might regret. Yes, the rain has flaws. But overall, it forces one to stop taking things for granted, and see its pure magnificence.