It came early this year, on a quiet summer evening. Sitting on my window sill, the pitter-pattering sound of raindrops on the roof breaks the silence and monotony of the night. I welcome the rain with childlike anticipation, a welcome respite from the heat and grime that pervades the metropolis--and one's heart.
The rain comes to me as a time of refreshing.
From the toils of a hard day's work, to the uncertainty of waiting for a love lost. In the stillness of the night, it made me think about a lot of things. About memories and the present, of reality and flights of fancy. One could never stay forever in a world of make-believe; even if it is where you feel alive most. But the inspiriting thought is that you know you can always go back. Just as the rain fall in after what it seem to be an interminable dry spell.
That is how the rain makes me feel. It breathes life into my dreary heart, giving that hope to carry on loving and a renewed spirit to face life's uncertain expectations.
Raindrops on the roof
Scent of wet earth
The silent chill of solitude
Moments of eternal bliss.
Scent of wet earth
The silent chill of solitude
Moments of eternal bliss.
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