rain

What is it about the rain that makes us want to stand in the downpour of it? Why do we long to strip off societal constraints to stand in vulnerability under its unyielding flood? Today, I stood in the rain, on my back porch, all alone, I just stood in it, I let it pour down over me, drip down my hair, cold drops spilling down the back of my shirt, bare feet tapping out an unknown rhythm in the puddles of it, somehow in the midst of the torrential flood, I found myself uttering prayers, I found myself crying out, desperately, hungrily, crying out... I don't know what it is about rain that appeals to us... maybe its that in those drops we imagine more than water, we see our sorrow, and frustrations, our joy and exhilarations encapsulated in those watery spheres.... and we see the magnifications of our own tears... when the heavens darken and the skies open up to let down their fury and their sorrow.... I guess somehow I hope that when the rain stops and the thunder subsides that maybe in someway all my angst will also be so conveniently washed away... taken down the hillside in tidy rivulets... to be washed away onto someonelse's shore...