She is wide awake listening to the soft pitter-patter of the drops up above.
They gently pelt the roof that keeps her dry,
Yet something about it calls out to her like a simplistic siren’s call.
She can’t help but feel the need to get closer,
She craves the feeling of the drops kissing her skin,
She slips out from under her covers and heads down the stairs.
She treads downstairs only for the downpour to get heavier.
She steps outside—
one foot in front of the other.
She places one barefoot upon the tear-trodden ground.
She takes solace in the cool sting that travels up her limb.
As she wriggles her toes she begins to feel better about the world.
She takes only a few steps before she is drenched in the earth’s sorrows.
She feels free as her hair begins to stick to her freckle-stained face.
She feels lighter as the rain weighs on her clothes.
She inhales the springtime air.
She exhales the hold winter had on her.
She inhales new life into her tired lungs.
The downfall cleanses her soul;
She feels happy to be standing there.
She feels overjoyed to have the droplets pelt her skin as they pick up in pace.
As the roar turns back into the soft hum of spring,
She feels a tension within her be released.
She feels safe knowing even the world sheds tears over her.
She is not alone.