It’s Raining
It’s raining.
It isn’t a gentle pitter-patter.
The sky is pouring all it’s soul out.
The clouds aren’t their usual color;
they are angry,
dressed in all shades of grey.
I think I see the sparks of purple in there too…
I guess the lightening will be visiting us soon.
The streets are rivers flowing smoothly.
A student even handcrafted a boat,
and is using it to paddle in the flooded roads.
I might add this on my bucket list:
paddling through a flooded street;
not having a care for whats around me.
The sky cracks open:
dividing into two.
Followed by a deafening raging, shout;
vibrating our house, and
it feels like the earth’s shaking too.
The palm trees shiver and shake vigorously,
I worry they will fall off and die in a heap.
like resilient, armed soldiers, in times of war,
they stand their ground and don’t fall off, though.
At some point, I feel like a feather.
Easily carried and swayed by this weather.
I wouldn’t stand a chance against this wind
— that is if we ever had a 1V1 battle.
I admire the palm tree’s strength,
how it’s holding up despite the several
assaults made by the wind.
Maybe one day i’ll be able to hold on when times are rough.
Finding strength from inside of me,
instead of leaning on someone for help.
There is something about the way the rain streams down,
something about the way the sky rumbles,
the clouds darkens,
the atmosphere contaminated and the light dimming
— like a scene from a dystopian movie I think —
that makes me feel
so empty inside.
Like a hollow can that echoes when you talk to it.
It gives you no answer.
Only amplifies the sound of your voice, always leaving you with no replies.
I look at the scene in front of me.
I am not inside my body- i’m beside the ceiling, watching.
Waiting for this feeling to leave.
I watch the raging nature,
my heart pounding heavily.
I understand this.
The rage.
What is mother-nature trying to say?
It’s probably done with all the abuse we subject it to every day.
As I watch the nature lashing out,
I don’t feel happiness or sadness.
I feel numb. empty.
Like i’m under water. suffocating.
I wait for nature to finish letting everything out.
The weather doesn’t clear out for a long while.
I hope it feels good destroying everywhere…
The clouds leave, and are replaced by the morning sun.
It’s a switch turned off.
the only evidence of the former outburst are the drenched streets-
and destroyed shops.
Still feeling hollow, I look up at the sun,
Searching for answers and replies…
the only thing I get from her:
is the promise of a new day,
even when disasters occur.
