The Rain

What do I do with this zealous for life? The rain pours down and begs me to follow its somberness. I resist and it only makes stark the contrast between the high I feel and its low. It is beautiful though…the delicate patterns of droplets that hit the pavement- almost intoxicatingly downing; it drowns my thoughts. How is there so much beauty in such melancholiness? 

I remember playing in puddles outside in the rain as a child, not caring about the wetness or of having to shower after coming into the cool A/C – drenched. What happened to the attitude of enjoying and indulging in the moment… A God given moment? When did I become so legalistic and want to run inside to avoid messing up my hair or dampening my clothes? -All for the appearance of others…instead of enjoying the gifts of every-day living. I mean, was it ever so bad for someone to get wet… really? Are we so grown up that it would be like a sin to stand out in the rain with our arms open wide and our head tilted back toward the sky… feeling the droplets of rain drip on our forehead and down our face. Ahh…what peace!

I yearn to go outside  as I stare out of the coffee shop window, but do I dare?  Maybe if it lightens up…and would I care who saw me if I did?

 I think today I’ll stay and enjoy the warmth of my coffee and the comfortableness inside. But I do dare to dream…