Listen to the Rain! Let it transport you to the places of your soul that are closed off, locked behind bars, piled with dust and forgotten.
Listen to the rain, to its primordial trance dance, the rhythm so ancient we have it in our bones. Can you hear a beating heart? Beating wings? Truth knocking on the window glass?
Listen to the rain. Make it a conversation. Ask your questions, with your whole heart, pour it out so the answers can pour in and wash away the sadness and the tiredness, and nonsense flurries that fill up our days.
Listen, let it touch you. Let rain kiss your face, close your eyes and surrender into warm traces of raindrops on your skin. Rain is a friend, an intimate and gentle, all-understanding ally. It too knows what it feels like to pour the heart out, let loose the dreams and hopes, the broken ones, and fruiting ones, and future plans just being woven.
Listen to the rain. Drink in the waters to quench all kinds of thirsts. Sometimes in drought we forget we had a thirst sometime so long ago it's nothing but a dream we lost and dusted over.
Listen to the rain. Let it cleanse you and renew, make space for something new and sacred that's just behind the veil of mists descending, begging to come in and nourish the parched earth of the spirit's yearnings.
Trust the rain. It holds you gently in its embrace, reminding to be gentle with yourself, recharge, renourish, relax and be, quietly, with nothing much to do but listen to the rain.
And then the flowers come, and fragrances, and bird songs. Leave it to the rain to bring forth rainbows and myriads of sparkles that have no other purpose but to delight our hearts. And then there are the puddles! And wet dogs. And muddy kids.
And barefoot splashing, and celebrations of this magnificent rebirth of nature, and happiness for no apparent reason other than it rained. And gave us life! And water.
So let there be rain!