Rain

It is raining. It always rains. It always goes back to that.
It probably won't ever stop, as the world keeps turning and seasons change.
It floods. It always floods. It cannot be stopped.
It seems that this water is what drives my life to change with the seasons.
Well, let it.
Let it rain.
Let the world spin and turn at its pace. As it does.
Pages on this book will keep on turning,
and will be filled every day.
I won't ever cease to fill them.
The rain will not mar them, will not ruin them.
This is my rhythm, the rhythm of my life and the seasons of my soul.
I look forward to the day when spring will flower in my life instead.
Floods that leave behind a trail of flowers that come alive after the drought.
Maybe one day.