here Comes The Rain
"darkness falls, and the rain settles to a steady beat,
eyes closed in a trance, and the fingers dance across the lonely street"
Ah. A magical rainy night that draws me like a moth to a light. When I was a child, rainy nights were always something that attracted me. If I were to wake in the middle of the night, sometimes waiting for my dad to come home, I would be inexplicably drawn to the sound of the rain and I would open the window and stare as the raindrops fall steadily. There is always a nice smell associated with the rain, a tinge of freshness mixed in together with the sadness. These tears from heaven are always drawn together with melancholy and all things cry-worthy yet it attracts me so much. I miss the night rain.
I moved to the front door and inched closer to the rain, the memory of the child in me resurfaces as the senses start to pick out the various items all around. It looks set to be a long night for the rain as the pitter patter of the droplets starts on its own rhythm, not fast enough that it burns out in an hour or two and yet still strong enough to make its presence felt.
And thus, a brand new March begins on a wet note, a brand new beginning suggesting fresh experiences. Within it all lies the brutal honesty that the rain suggest, that this month is not going to be smooth sailing with the many deadlines in store as well. Yet, the strength of the rain does makes for an encouraging role model... On a sleepy note as the trance starts to lift, and the fingers slow down over the keyboard, its time to call it a night.
eyes closed in a trance, and the fingers dance across the lonely street"
Ah. A magical rainy night that draws me like a moth to a light. When I was a child, rainy nights were always something that attracted me. If I were to wake in the middle of the night, sometimes waiting for my dad to come home, I would be inexplicably drawn to the sound of the rain and I would open the window and stare as the raindrops fall steadily. There is always a nice smell associated with the rain, a tinge of freshness mixed in together with the sadness. These tears from heaven are always drawn together with melancholy and all things cry-worthy yet it attracts me so much. I miss the night rain.
I moved to the front door and inched closer to the rain, the memory of the child in me resurfaces as the senses start to pick out the various items all around. It looks set to be a long night for the rain as the pitter patter of the droplets starts on its own rhythm, not fast enough that it burns out in an hour or two and yet still strong enough to make its presence felt.
And thus, a brand new March begins on a wet note, a brand new beginning suggesting fresh experiences. Within it all lies the brutal honesty that the rain suggest, that this month is not going to be smooth sailing with the many deadlines in store as well. Yet, the strength of the rain does makes for an encouraging role model... On a sleepy note as the trance starts to lift, and the fingers slow down over the keyboard, its time to call it a night.
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