The dances and joyous sounds of the day have changed.
The rain falls, beginning still and sudden,
Its core gets closer and brings heavy falls now, heavy and fast.
It has arrived and yet much remains unanswered.
Was it apparent that this was coming?
The temperatures had dropped and set the stage for what was to be.
Its cunning – only realised in hindsight,
The drops startle, they are stunning, they are clear, they are forceful and yet so gentle,
Is it normal for this time of year, is there an old tale that explains this?
Thoughts are interrupted, drawn to it as it pounds the roads, taking no prisoners,
Blatantly ignoring the speed limits and coloured warnings,
And so it might.
How is there such beauty?
It is endless, from the gathered clouds above to the drops that railroad down the pane of glass,
Swallowing those that lay idle,
Racing them to the bottom, initially they resist,
However, by the halfway mark, they are locked in the momentum, surrendering to it,
This race goes on.
At least until this cloud has shed its life, nourishing the earth below,
It may not be welcomed but,
It means well.
It is only doing what the earth needs,
Filling this moment,
Here and now,
With gentle acoustics unique to every shower, to every drop, to every molecule.
The rain. The Rain, THE RAIN.