I love the rain. The splat on my window is the most calming sound as it soothes me to sleep. 

Rain signals peace. 

So as the clouds let it out, as they wail and scream, I am serene. Tears leak out and I rejoice, an excuse to curl up and read, or more realistically to catch up on my latest show. 

As the sky cries, I am filled with joy and serenity, the calming sense of rain washes over me, and I am vulnerable and accepting as the raindrops fall harder and harder.

It doesn’t rain much. Lately, the clouds have been generous with their rations of raindrops. But soon, the clouds will close again, and the calm will dry up with them. The generosity will fade; the clouds will remember that crying is no fun—that it is embarrassing to let the rain leak from the sky. I will no longer rejoice, I will curse the clouds and look to the sky for the beautiful tears. 

I will remind the clouds that rain is far from embarrassing. It nourishes the plants and lets the flowers bloom. The flowers who used to laugh and hug one another will stop and wilt in the absence of the nurturing drops of rain. 

One flower notices rain clouds coming and is filled with so much pure joy, the rain comes and the downpour begins. Instead of being embarrassed, the cloud lets the tears out. The emotions stuffed at the top of the cloud make their way down to the bottom, and the cloud bursts. The energy that was used to hold the tears in is used to let each drop flood out. 

This is why I love the rain; it signals the emotional dam breaking. It brings vexation, jubilation, and sorrow. I dance in the mix of emotions as they fall to the ground around me. My hair is soaked and a laugh—as pure as it could possibly be—pours from my mouth the same as the rain from the clouds. 

Rain is passion. 

Each minuscule raindrop is filled to the brim with overwhelming ardor. The cloud lets all emotion out and is soon filled with more, but instead of leaking out, the cloud looks to the flowers who are yet again, laughing and hugging, and the clouds are full of glee. 

I am in love with the sound of rain, but thunderstorms soothe me the most. I am carried into sleep as clouds rage around me. In the morning, I wake and see a calm smile on the cloud’s faces. I see the flowers bloom rather than wilt. 

I go on with my day refreshed. I soon find myself craving a thunderstorm, and the clouds will wait, forcing me to be patient with them, but soon the storm comes, and I am left feeling anew, yet again. 

Rain will always be my favorite weather, but the emotions the dark clouds bring will be the most endearing aspect of the mess that comes in a rainstorm.