I am one of those people who enjoy rainy days. I like sunshine as much as the next person but, its rainy days that fill my senses with nostalgia leaving me both a feeling of solace and awe. The rain never seems to fall the same way twice at yet the pitter-patter of the leaves as the shower rolls over the trees or the dripping that births countless ripples in every puddle like an unknown symphony seemingly all too familiar. Even I who sits alone in this cold marble porch cannot escape its dampening embrace as the wind cradles a frigid whisper caressing my skin with an icy touch and filling my lungs with a gust that seems to chill my down to my very soul. Basking in the glory of this deluge that can seemingly reduce all of existence into drowned nothingness, amidst the almost chaotic harmony of its drip, dribble, and natural flow, its frightening yet at the same time calming, as if coming face to face with mortality, standing on pedestals of sand. Like needles from the heavens to flog the impurities earth as all stand witness with no ark to be their cradle, all the earth stands defiant as if imposing their wills upon each other, ultimately one must perish. It is within this shade encased by the wall of water I sit, and bound in this mutual silence with the storm, even the warmth of the tea upon my lips is rendered naught, and yet upon the last drop, I return and share the same company for another cup. ----graydarksoul----
