Drip

The rain drips onto my bare skin, and it intertwines with my freckles. I watch it pool underneath my feet and feel it soak into my socks, wondering how long the storm can last. The thunder roars as the lightning flashed, bringing me to my knees. How can such a natural element in life be so powerful, to create a powerful feeling?

I look to the clouds above that are grey swirled with speckles of white. They appear to be crying for the past and yearning for the future. For how long can they cry and belt without being seen? The answer is unclear, for the clouds have cried for hundreds of thousands of years; we may never know why she cries. All we know is that she does, and all we can do is appreciate the rainbows that come after the storm. The rain brings a new day and growth through the violence and chaos.