Scenes of a memory

I have a friend who waits silently for rain. Her eyes fixed upon the grey skies, imploring the heavens to let go of those crystal drops for water. For her, rain means a dream uncaught by mortal hands but can only be felt by a lonely heart. A dream to stand next to someone who’s heart is like the fleeting wind. Blowing here and there, resting a while but never setting his feet down on the ground.

As the rain cascades down from the shadowy sky, my friend runs out to greet the droplets of her dreams. With outstretch arms and open hands, she tries to grasp the tiny crystals of water. Her hair is now wet, dropping down in front of her face. The rain mixes with her tears, masking her sorrow of a longing unmet. But at least she can smile in the rain. She can taste the crisp fragrance of the moist wind. And her burning heart is cooled by the gentle drizzle.

She realises, with tragic reality, the futility of trying to grasp the rain water. Yet she rejoices in being able, at least, to feel the cool sensation of being wet. If the rain cannot rest inside her heart, she can at least bask in the sensasion of its presence. For she knows that the North wind will carry the clouds away, and the rain may not return for another day. But inside she knows that she has experienced the fleeting moment and she will forever cherish those scenes in her memory. All that she takes with her are all that he’s left behind. Memory shares eternity, even though they may live in two different lives.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 27th, 2005 at 4:49 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.