Oh, the rain has come.
Oh, blessed be, the blessed rain has come.
I've been praying for rain. Yearning, longing, keening for the rain.
Once, while complaining about the weather, I pointed out that this area is supposed to be a rainforest. Ah, yes, well. Apparently this is the dry season - albeit a relatively brief one.
It rained shortly after we arrived here, but that was oh, more than six weeks ago now, surely. It only took a week or two for me to notice the lack of rain. A couple more to feel a little concerned. And then soon, rather disturbed, just quietly thank you.
I feel that the rain is a physical necessity for me. If it doesn't rain for a while, I feel a desperate thirst that just cannot be quenched by drinking. It's the thirst of the land and the air. Obviously, I would not last long in a desert environment.
Rain makes everything all right. Rain makes everything better. Rain makes the world fresh and clean, even in the inner-city streets. In the sound of the raindrops falling to the earth I hear the eternal peace of the oneness of the universe, the very pulse of the goddess. The most brilliant, ecstatic moments of my life have been in the rain. Dancing in the rain. Swimming in the rain. Walking really hard and fast through a rainstorm until you're running wet with rain and burning up with a raging heartbeat. Just smelling and hearing the rain.
My heart is filled with gratitude for the opening of the heavens. Already I feel greedy for rain and I'm praying, I'm begging for it to stay the night, please at least to greet the dawn. I will bring the sleeping mats and spare blankets out here to the verandah and sleep, warm and dry, in the fresh moist air. Or maybe I won't sleep much, but just listen to the raindrops.
Oh, the blessed rain has come.