A Letter To The Clouds [di ako gumawa nito]

The rain is different tonight. There is a tender gracefulness in the way the silver slivers of rainwater glide across rooftops, crawl down walls, snake around pavement corners and sink into sewers and shadows. There is majesty in the way the sounds of rain soak memory, sending one into unshakeable spells of longing, leaving one trembling. But there is a biting cold, steady and steely, sharp and swift like a knife slicing through butter, a song slicing through the folds of the mind.

The rain is so different tonight. I am listening to an album by a guy who just survived cancer. He swims in the beauty of life as he renders his thoughts with his piano. The strains of his intrument are forceful, feeling, almost frolicking. Playful, taunting even, for he has lived through the thickest rain of life.

And yet the rain tonight is familiar. Once upon a time I called rain like this "motel weather," taken after a beautiful essay I read in school. In the absence of warm bodies-- skin gliding against skin-- there are only thoughts, heavy, heaving thoughts colliding like long lost lovers on the bed of contemplation and restrained regret. Uncertainty and fear sing accompanied by the bittersweet symphony of night and rain.

Tonight the rain is my pen, my shield, my soul. It is my conscience, my prayer, the very fabric of the garment I have on my back. I wear the rain like I wear arms, limbs, head and heart everyday of this life.

I smelled an umbrella for the first time today. I was surprised that it smelled like rain. Maybe, through the misty musk (damn you, memory), the wet wonder of it all (damn you, expectation), I wished to smell a part of you.

 

[from: Camille's Blog ]