The world around me turns faster and faster, never seeming to slow down.
As an inhabitant, I seem to have grown accustomed to this lifestyle and theory.
However, the only time the world does seem to actually stop on rest her weary head is when it rains.
I, too, find that when the sky cries her salty sorrows down upon the earth is the time when I seem to be most at peace with the people around me and myself.
Everything stops.
My memories go into reverse.
I remember a poem I once read in a book.
I didn’t keep my attention for very long, but I was but a small child back then.
Still, the poet’s words are burned into my memory like the coldest ice pressing into my skull.
“The rain falls down in a steady rhythm, one often people ignore.
Only the children and those about to leave can hear the soothing song so many have forgotten.
Still, I wait. For I long to hear this soft ballad, too.
And in the midst of all my waiting, I remember I have a life to live.
People will come, and people will go.
But if one thing won’t change, it’s the hidden music we refuse to take part in.
Many deny it, many have already accepted it, and many still have to learn of it.
But the time is coming, and is already here, when the world will stop completely
And become consumed in utter chaos.
Until then, I will wait to hear the rain’s calm soothing sound.
For in times of even sensible chaos, the rain always remains at peace.”
