NaPoWriMo Day #17: Perspectives of the Rain

Pitter-patter, drip and drop, dotting the glass with smeared tears.
The sky is a charcoal gray with darker shades hoisting it up
And zigzagged bolts that slash through them here.

I’ve never understood completely why the rain is a positive symbol,
I suppose for those inside it is, a soundtrack to their reading,
A soundtrack to their snuggles under crumbled sheets.
An absentminded view to bring peace from the steady hums and distant rumbles.

But to those outside, it is a number of the opposite.
A siren of warning to make it home, to throw themselves under a refuge.
Or it is a hindrance, a complete obstacle for those with nowhere to be.
An atmosphere of danger, with white hot flashes and crushing booms,
Fearful spikes that shoot up the spines of every organism.

I see the awe that manifests on a small girl’s face, her nose smudged
Against the window, eyes widening with each dance of light and cymbal crash.
It is a thrilling fright; she retreats quickly only to push back up again to watch.

I see the worried surprise of a biker down the lane,
he must steer faster
To beat the growing torrents.

I see the shivered fear of a homeless woman, searching
frantically for a store veranda she can sneak under—
but she is not close enough to
make it before the downfall hardens.

The rain~
We often feel comfort from it, but only when we are sheltered from it—
on the inside looking out.


3 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo Day #17: Perspectives of the Rain

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