I would like to say that the rain makes me happy.
That I leap for joy and dash out under the thundering clouds to dance.
To splash in the water and feel renewed as a child would do.
But it rained today.
And I am no longer a child.
I have seen the days pour like so many burdens that will never be relieved.
Rainy days have a track record for hard days.
I tentatively tip-toe around the rain, pleading for an escape from the travesty.
Said travesty never comes.
I sit on my windowsill, watching as the drops come down.
Thinking of all the rainy days before this.
Heaven is crying, so why should I hold back my own tears?
Am I not worth all of heaven?
The sun came out a little later.
And I could breath once more.
But the ache is still there.
From the rainshower of hurt something must spring forth.