rainy days

rainy days are for waiting. the sky is a deep grey, the kind that makes you want to stay indoors, to wait for the storm to pass. but what are we waiting for, exactly. the rain to stop, the sun to come out, the world to make sense. or are we waiting for something more, something just beyond the horizon. the sound of raindrops on the roof, a steady beat, a reminder that time is passing, even as we stand still. in the rain, the world is muffled, a quiet that is both calming and unsettling. and so we wait, suspended between the desire to move forward and the need to pause. the rain drums on, a relentless rhythm, as we wait, and wait, and wait. byline="anonymous" bucket="drip". the smell of wet earth rises up, a primal scent, as the rain washes away the dirt, the grime, the memories. we wait, and in the waiting, we find a stillness, a quiet that is both beautiful and terrifying.