Daily Times

I remember hearing the drops of water

Battering the roof like a hail of bullets.

I remember the single droplet of rain,

Trickling freely down my window pane,

Stopping for a few seconds,

As if mapping out its next move.

Leaving a wet trail behind

As if it was a snail marking its adventure.

As if it was a pathway leading someone to their dreams.

I remember closing my eyes

And listening to its soft rhythm

It was as if it was rehearsed to fall in this arranged way.

A drop joined by many more,

Dedicated to another like an army of troops.

Washing away the dryness from the land,

Like offering to wash away everyone’s and everything’s problems.

I remember watching through my glass window

It creating small pools along the sidewalk

And the children kicking and destroying

Those pools as they passed along.

I remember watching people struggling to get their umbrella open,

To somehow shield themselves

From this water falling just so beautifully.

I remember glancing out the window once again

To see plants and flowers sparkle in the misty haze.

Each drop of water shimmering where it lay

As if it thought it was on display.

I remember realising the time

How I just spent those couple of hours accompanied by the rain.

Watching and observing something so precious, not made by us

But made by the heavens

Not touched by us but by Mother Nature.

Sometimes invisible sometimes in site, is it only called rain?

I remember how it overtook my attention

As if it was trying to entertain me like no other.

Trying to tell me that it wasn’t just plain simple water

Cut into tiny parts.