rescued by the rain

The loneliness can only be filled with these luscious drops of silvery rain. The void, this vacuum of feelings, this barren land, the vast desert of emotions left quenched for water, unloved, run for as long as the eye can see. Nothing to lock the mischievous dust from gathering force with each easternly wind that takes its fancy to dance. There are no plants, there is no life, the thoughts cannot be fixed with just sunlight and air. Somehow they get carried away, inconsequential and aimless. But these bitter days, these nights that lurk, they bring hope, the distinct possibility of rain. That which once was empty is filled, given substance, recognized as worthy of praise. The weight of each raindrop, like heavy armoury, strikes bold, nails the flaunting hopes and desires to the ground. Settles the disputes, settles the flaky and unsure steps. Steers the vessels, floods the doubts.

Here I am, rescued by the rain. The skies I cannot see, I imagine a blue beyond this endless grey. But this grey magically reflects the grey inside. Hushed, almost silent, they all retreat when the rain appears. Haunted. Run like hunted prey from these uncomfortable rains. Run to hide the things they do not want washed away or washed clean. In full glory I reign over the streets. But I am no ruler and become mesmerized by the falling drops of tiny refuge. Each cobble succumbs and so must I, for there is no greater power than that of rain. Cleansing, I forget who made me reigning queen.

The sun set so quietly, the gentle tapping of the rain melodiously lingers on. Inspiration slowly drowns out any light, any sound, just the rain, the smell of freshness, the darkening skies, the cooling night, the mist that covers all floating ideas, fragments of stories waiting to be captured. I give in completely, surrender to the helplessly falling skies. It is of no burden, it is a liberator, a cloaked stranger who brings relief, brings light through the thickening dark. I have never known a sweeter burden than these endless autumn rains. Not through helplessness but choice I chain myself to its boundless grace. 

Frightening how much I enjoy these rainy days. Locked in my mind, wandering through the empty streets, drenched in the heavenly gift of water. Fruitful aspirations, moods which nothing else can replace or replicate. This is how I come to create, this is what quietens me. Every season brings its rain and through these dirty but delicious, these essential drops of water I am softly rescued.