Let the drops slowly come down, scattering the dryest dirt into rings of wet dots.
Let it fall into a heavy sprinkle, lightly coating all that's uncovered.
Heavier is the next wave of a constant flow with sheets of water coming down, steadily.
But this is still not complete, bring on the monsoon that covers, that scatters.
Come, wash it all away.
Wash away all of the aggrivations of these goals that have been difficult to accomplish.
Wash away these up and down feelings that I can't always control.
Wash away the silence when I'm at a loss for words, not knowing what to say.
Wash away the misunderstandings of the mistakes that I can't seem to live down.
When the actual rain falls it reminds me of a spiritual cleansing of the same.
Time heals and new memories made make this so much more bearable.
As all that is lost, as all that harms, as all that is useless is washed away.

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