Breaking Rain

A romance: cliché? Maybe.. but since am romantic in moments I’d like to share this romance I witnessed between the sky and the haze of clouds.. and the Sun. A love triangle.

I witnessed the fall of the clouds after the break. The ripples of heart break into thundering, roaring dark clouds. The shatter of their soul, the mass. The giving up of the sky on the rain. The weight of darkness looming heavily upon them. The fall of their being, raining. The hide of the falling rain in every depth, crevice, corner of this earth. The embrace of the sun and the acceptance of the sky. And something beyond.

Its raining where I am. Everyone connects with the rain.. A happy day or a sad one.. A rain cannot escape unnoticed. Just like water, that which it pours in, the rain is cursed to change its being from vessel to vessel.. where its defined. A resplendent smile..or a lonely tear. A happy talk or a sorrowful monologue. They all find a place in the rain. Some stretch out their arms and embrace it. Some open up their fists to bring out a crumpled palm and let it cool the burn in there.. Others hide their tears in it and a few, smile with it.

But this is all what we think of rain. Rain actually does none of it. Only we think it is what Rain does to us. The rain in all of its innocence only pours. It goes up.. gathers itself into a cloud and when it becomes too heavy for the sky to hold on to, the sky opens its embrace and the rain falls. Feeling deceived. Recoiling back to where it came from. Like it never was to go up at all…Like it always knew it’d fall. Like that transformation into fluffy soft being was only going to be for a while. Like rain’s Love for the sky would never die and that deception ‘d hurt each time. Like the rain’d known always the embrace is to break..like it hung on to even the last thread and falls in a million pieces after having broken the embrace. Like it knows and yet cannot accept the break. In clouds it goes cold enough to even cloak the mighty sun. Like nothing can break its fall. Like nothing can curb its cry. Like it is angry and seeps into the ground so low ..so that it never has to see the face of sky again.

And when each bit of it has poured….all the cloud dispersed. The destiny accepted. The sun shines again with all its might. Exposing the harsh reality of its being. Claiming parts of the sky as its own like it’d never left….Like the whole world belongs to it. And it smiles. The sun smiles. Cause the sky again belongs to it.
But eventually..the sun with all of its being. All that he does, the shining mighty bright…unknowingly it brings the water again closer to the sky. Again to soothe the ailing white sky the water rises..forgetting its last fall..the last cry.. the last break. It rises again to touch the sky. It rises to embrace the sky into a happy moment. It slowly fits into the sky… covering the heat with its soft hands and healing it with its soft breath all the scars it had taken in, grazing the the whole stretch. The blue mingles into white. And the white into grey.

But then again….the clouds start weighing and the breath starts turning into heaving. Heaves of anger when the cloud starts realizing, all of this again was only for a while, when the reality starts crashing in and it angrily bangs into itself. Thundering. Declaring to the world how unwilling is it to fall….

But since the time has come.. it starts to pour steadily..in drizzles. It knows it is time to leave and in pieces it starts to break and when it breaks completely down is when it POURS. Is what we call a down pour. A raining cloud. A crying one at that. It knows nothing else than to fall. And break.