Rain

A poem by Brynn Albrecht

Rain is like life. The bite of the wind on my face reminds me that I'm human. Like the rain, I have a purpose here. My purpose is to help others, to grow spiritually, and become like God. Even if only for a temporary time, rain washes the earth of all the dirt, mud, and pain. It is not selfish and does not take offense. Raindrops feed our crops and fill our reservoirs.

One minute I'm laying out enjoying the sun when summer showers begin, other times it's foreseen and thunderstorms strike for days. Every so often, I can tell that life is about to turn bitter. Other times I am carefully pulled into sadness as storm clouds push the sun away. It's my choice to choose if I will dance, or hide under an umbrella.

Thunderstorms are like people. Lightning invites the thunder to play. Sometimes they dance, while other times fights break out. Emotions of humanity are hard to read. Everyone experiences distress, happiness, pain, and comfort.

The white noise of each drop hitting the ground blurs everything around it and gives me time to focus and contemplate everyday moments.

Rain is a blessing, even if it may be difficult to see. Without anguish, I wouldn't know bliss. Like most things, we only see the appearance of it, and don't spend time thinking about the hours of mind-numbing preparation behind it.

It's easy to tell where rain has been. The smell is distinct and refreshing. It leaves a glow in its path. Whether or not my current mood is calm, upsetting, happy, or depressed, I leave a path that could be difficult or easily seen.

Like me, clouds take their time collecting before pouring, and sometimes angrily, letting everything out. While weather is puzzling and life is intricate, both are divine.

Rain cleanses the earth and clarifies my soul.