The Hope That Fell From The Sky

I sighed. The sound echoed, bouncing off the nearby one story houses. The rain poured down, showing no mercy, leaving me looking and feeling like a soaking wet dog. Tendrils of wet hair, hung down in ropes, dripping onto my t-shirt. The rain blurred my vision, until I could barely make out shapes. I heard the pitter-patter of rain drops falling onto the slippery cement. The soundtrack of my heart. I felt the cold and wetness envelope me, until I was numb. My lips separated and I caught raindrops on my tongue. They tasted fresh, like how a new beginning should taste. Fittingly so, since the rain seems to wash away the past, leaving you with unexplored feelings. Once the rain comes to a stop, a rainbow appears, filling your soul with vibrant emotions, as vibrant as the colors themselves. "Rain is nature's symbol of hope." I whispered, realizing what I spoke was the truth. Even Mother Nature knows when hope is warranted. Even I know. This was one of those moments and the rain provided the hope, in a way that resonated, far after the last raindrop was shed by the clouds.