The Storm

I knew what the storm tasted like, even before I could smell it. The steady calm of grayness enveloped me. The calming sound of absolute quietness, was interrupted only by a distant boom of thunder.

Before the first drops hit the ground, puddles had formed in my eyes, tears, like rain, streaking my cheeks. The rain washes away things, the dampness of the earth waiting for a fresh start. I was ready for that. The new beginning.

Accepting what pours down on me.

Like holy water.

A baptism, of sorts.

A rebirth.

Lord knows I needed one.

Maybe, just maybe, those fat, warm drops falling from the sky in buckets will make me feel something different.