Rain..

The rain is falling harder now. It started with a few, pale trickles down her spine as she walked back inside and now, as she presses her fingers against the deep, cold glass of the window in her room, she can sense the sharp, icy blades of grass wincing under the weight of a heavier visitor. Everytime it rains, life stops for her. For five minutes, or five hours, or five days, as long as the rain falls, she stands. There are thoughts in her, that are stimulated as each round, bright pebble falls on the warm, brown earth in a liquid embrace. She thinks of transitions. She thinks of the wind and freedom. She thinks of unicorns and dancing girls. She thinks of her childhood. When it rains, its all one. When it rains, she feels as if she's stumbled upon a magic hourglass that softly strips down the layers that seperate one broken path in time from another. Everything merges. The past, the present, and what is to come.
Nostalgia. That's what they sometimes say it is. But it isn't. She knows. Its her life through the eyes of God. She wonders when she will let faith take over. Logic isn't working. And she allows that. She allows it to prevail.The logic. Its her life through the eyes of God. A God she thinks she doesn't believe in. A God with whom she stands right now and watches herself. Thinking about them both.Thinking of the rain..
She wants to dance. She wants to run out screaming and dance like a pagan in the rain. She wants to be.
But its almost gone now. The rain. God has passed her by. Today, she will have to return. Tommorow's another day......