Nobody wants to walk in the rain, yet not long ago it was a place of solitude and intimacy a place were flesh met emotion.

The rain is never where people love to stroll through. The rain is the place blamed for lack of patience, the rain is ridiculed for being damp and cold, yet many forget the puttering of drops evoke the most intensely calming place.

Rain soothes the troubles of long days, old aches, and new pressures. In it nobody seems to find physical presence, yet likely find them selves pouring as fluidly as the drop caught on the window, wildly racing to a point yet not fully unaware of where that may be.

Nobody walks in the rain for they are uncertain of their ability deal with the coldest of themselves. The parts so deep that damp and cold seem synonymous to either basements or your own cellar of fears and pieces of nightmares, blank stares, and tears [which are loosely wrapped in moments of embarrassment and defeat], only to be whisked away under the rug & not fully dealt with.

To subside or to suppress the growth of oneself. In the rain, seeds are planted yet many shy away from the task of stepping into the rain allowing the flowers to be nourished at the most simple level, which is the true essence of the rain.

Although cold and damp, it slows you and places you in a certain essence of patience, you then understand that this cold spell is temporary. That this damp moment shall blossom all the guidance you need. Even an actor forgets lines so once the cold brings warmth, the so called “beautiful” and those in attempts to steal beauty shall come to fruition. Showing you the difference between weeds and roses. Discerning the two will be more than obvious as one will sit authentically and the other will be a simple mockery of mediocre proportions.

Nobody walks in the rain because many are afraid to grow their seeds, to see what shall blossom as a ragweed to be removed and what will blossom into carnations, chrysanthemums, Lily’s, and Orchids by which you can adore.

How beautiful, you can become in the coldest, most isolating moments, as the tears of the clouds drip its sorrows over creations unseen. The cold is where the remembrance of warmth comes from, how the cold was then given as a test of internal desire to hold on in the midst of a slight freeze. Slush and Frost bring about nothing but luscious morning dew. Growth is the only thing that comes from the rain.


So, when will you walk in the rain?