The Rain

Whether tears of joy from God or rivers of sorrow from the mother we dwell upon, millions fall at every passing second.

Each a humbling reminder of how small I am in the world, and how I make up a true wave of life.

I hear them all pitter-patter on my window, calling for me to look at them.

Each spec tells me to be still, to not fear the tempest I sit in now.

Every one of them that falls is yet another step out of this turmoil.

What does that mean for the lightning though?

Does it mean that each radiant flash of power is a warning?

A sign that I am not to take my challenges lightly?

Perhaps not, instead, those brilliant bolts call to me with a new message,

“see the light, bear witness to me as I flash across the night sky. For we are the light in your darkness, do not tremble at our thunderous arrival.”

So much falling and yet it is not death, but rather a kind cleansing of the earth.

A reset for us to answer the call of.

To hide in our homes and love the walls that keep us warm, to embrace each other in a sign of safety.

And when the morning smiles at our weary eyes the next day, warming us with humidity, a second chance, and an end.

A finale to our lockdown and an invitation to dare to begin anew.