Rainy Day

Woke up
To the sound of pouring rain today.
It glistened down,
Gently reflecting how one feels.

The melancholy of clouds
Seems to succumb to my state of being,
Almost as if I am Zeus or Elysian - it is I whose
Sorry affairs dictate precipitation.

Like when her gaze left mine,
Lightning called and abandoned its gaze,
Leaving one behind to bemoan and
Thunder across the skies.

Sad thunder's grief
Calls to me. The gentle droplets
Look inviting to me,
And so I depart unto them.

I take tentative steps.
The droplets sharpen themselves and the senses;
Each tiny beat turns into
A concert in an emotional storm.

Did she look at me?
The rain doesn't look. The rain cannot
Afford to look, lest it fall presumptiously in love
And cease being simply rain.

No, not love... it is not love.
Just wanting to fix her problems.
As a storm deity, I might have that duality.
Does the rain fix problems?

The rain has better problems to fix.
The lifeblood of the world must be delivered
Before I am delivered to my world.
A selfish flood must wait.

Perhaps I can't fix her.
Perhaps, I am destined to sit on her sidelines,
To simply embrace her as needed,
And let her rain on me.

She will not rain. She cannot.
Who can rain but I?
I have tried to put myself on her level of mortality!
But my rains keep myself washed at bay.

Did her eyes look at me?
Maybe I am imagining it. I already know
That to communicate is futile,
Even more futile than tears in the rain.

Can I, the rain,
That binds together the heavens and the earth,
That in all of time will never touch,
Could I bind two hearts?