People surround me like rain falls –
An intermittently constant stream,
Disappearing into splatters on the ground
To become just another part of the crowd.
Some linger in reflections of self
Or ghosts of the past held in dips in the concrete
Only to dissipate completely when the sun comes out.
The rain is friendly, as its rhythmic dance
On a tin roof lulls me into a dream
Like a hand stroking my forehead,
And if I close my eyes I can almost feel a friend.
But the rain can’t be my friend.
The rain plays on glass, droplets racing down the window
Reminding me that the rain is together and I am alone.
The cold together makes me feel warmer as one,
And there may be warmth found in a band of beating hearts
But unmatched is the warmth of a hug
Where two hearts can touch.
I can’t touch the heart of the rain, it can only touch me
As it slips right through my fingers
Where a liquid hand can’t be held.
And the rain may have a beat but it’s too soft and quick
To be human and too rhythmic to be alive.
The rain never stutters or skips a beat
And I can dance in it but it can’t dance with me.
I can speak a soliloquy and pretend the rain is listening
But it can never confess a single secret back to me.
The rain may smell like a breath or a familiar comfort
But the rain is everything that has ever felt lonely.
I reach for the rain thinking at least someone
Will hold on, but the drops fall past and
Tentatively coat me like a second skin,
But maybe they don’t find a way below the surface
Because I just don’t let them in.
Maybe the rain doesn’t speak because it only
Feels listened to through concrete walls,
And who wants to sing to a closed door?
Maybe the rain is never held because no one
Is patient enough to let it collect in cupped hands.
And maybe when we hide beneath our umbrellas,
Together, it was actually the rain that was lonely.
And maybe all along I’ve been drawn to the rain
Because it’s only the rain that truly knows me.