It rained....but....

The rain comes down pouring. The water darts piercing the half-done road, revealing interesting potholes that always existed but never perceived. One of them resembles a crucifix. Repeatedly trampled upon by trucks, cars. Calling it a war-scar might be more accurate? Perhaps it's care, when its delicately hopped over by kids afraid of unearthing the raw pain underneath.

But there's a problem this time. The drops dance with all their might, but the trees won't. They do not sway in joy, completing the delicate tango. They are still, they look sad. Were the rains too late? Has the father come in too late to the kid's birthday party? For the trees do resemble that child's face, or the would-be bride who kept waiting at the wedding. The drops on the leaves that sprayed out like passionate sweat from a dancer's body, now slide down in silent anguish. Is her heart broken?

It seems like the rain realizes this deep down. For there is no proud thunder this time. An incomplete dance and no music. Only a dull, almost apologetic bass created by the sincere rain drops. No wonder the birds do not seem to be paying attention. They came to a show that never happened. Perhaps they feel let-down too. They go about with their usual pecking. There is one little birdie on the top of an antenna who is not ready to give up. Like a poor friend who is caught in the middle of a conflict between his other two friends. It shakes the rain off, then stares at the tree - its little, helpless brain wanting to help, but not knowing how.

The kids are at the windows though. Making the best of whatever they can - as they usually do. The rain drops won't give up - but it seems like the disappointment is rubbing off. They slow down to a slow murmur. And then subside. 

The hope is that the sadness does not last too long. A wind of change would would do the trick maybe. Tickle the girl into an irrational giggle, where rational persistence won't work. Everybody needs a helping hand sometimes....to bring back the happy times.

P.S. It was not always like this.....Read about the good times here