Sometimes we are the sound of rain on the balcony, falling… On landing we feel the the faint glow of a lamp switched on in a room with two lovers. We wonder who has sent us upon this scene, who says we die before we live?
As we fell from the skies and ended with a splash, amongst them it was more than just enough to be the rain, it was on seeing us that they stepped out. She has long hair and tries to be a hippie, he has short hair and wears a hat. Outside she laughs loudly as we fall on her, she holds her hand out to catch us and he watches the two of us. When we touch her lips he kisses them and swallows us, in this we find more splendor. We taste what she does and fall into a pool of white light inside his mouth which has strong notes of red wine.
They walk arm in arm, with us now in puddles, embellishing in each one of their footsteps, crashing and billowing up ever so slightly around their feet. The other raindrops, before joining us on the ground try to sneak into the crevices between their joined hands, so we too may feel the joy of touching the others skin. Those that do, are crushed between their hands as they run to the car. In the cool interior of pine and leather they shake some of us off and we are about to evaporate in the heat and music which has been switched on.
Outside, raindrops cling to the windows as the girl and boy begin to drive us through the city and we see them sing along to country on the radio. They look at each other when red lights stop them and smile the secret lovers smile and we are sad. Sad that we are only here for the precipitation of something, knowing that eventually the rain will stop and we won’t be any more.
Here in the car though, to the girl and boy we have become oblivious, so with each other, that we are reminded rather harshly of our existence as an element and not human being.
We felt just about everything that night, even the warmth of Kashmiri chai as we fell into white polystyrene cups before being consumed by them on the side of a road. What we could not feel though, no matter how hard we tried, on that balcony, as puddles, as drops on the windscreen was the beauty in how they felt about each other.
We are beautiful in our own way, falling on the city that night but they stand out so magnificently to the whole world. Eventually we, the rain, stop, hoping but also knowing that they will go on, they are in love.