It’s funny how a little rain turns the world upside down.
One moment you’re golden and soaring and azure and invincible then
A fat droplet of moisture hits your face.
You’re confused where it came from. Wasn’t it supposed to be summer?
It doesn’t take long for another to join it
Plop. Then another few plop, plop,
Before the heavens bare their soul to you, inviting you to do the same.
A flash illuminates the monotonous grey and a chill crawls up your spine
Peeling back another layer as the sky continues to fall
You’re soaked through, water seeping into every orifice it can
Till it reaches your bones and settles there.
The instruments intended to defend you from the elements
Powerless at the mercy of that relentless drum beat
Plop. Plop. Plop.
It becomes hard to imagine a world without that pervasive moisture in the air
Without the incessant echo residing in the background.
Was there ever a time when everything wasn’t damp? Before
Dankness and wailing winds and muddy browns were
The defining senses consuming your skin and ears and eyes.
Life is put on hold.
Buses are delayed.
Trains are halted indefinitely.
Getting to work becomes a physical ordeal along with the
Mental emotional spiritual challenge it already is.
It is so hard to connect two minds even without bodies being separated too.
Will it ever end?
You know it will,
But the clouds do roll away
And the air is crisper and the day finer than before.
Life explodes banishing the darkness while only
Vestiges remain of the passing storm:
The earth still sinks as you tread its paths,
The grass sparkles with a newfound brilliancy,
The earth worms lie by the side of the road
Casualties of the deadly river trickling past their wriggling corpses
Doomed by the emerging radiance.
And from every rooftop, tree branch, any surface under the sky
The telltale chorus prevails.