Today is simple day.
I sit and gaze quietly out the window.
At the rain.
Ratatatatatat goes the rain on my window.
It rolls down,
Gently
Softly,
Almost magically.
I go back to reading my book.
The boy in the book is watching the rain too.
But he lives far away.
It can't be the same rain.
Or can it?
I don't know.
I stand up and meander to the glass back door.
The rain is ratatating on that too.
I open it, just a little.
I can hear the rain louder now.
Plunkaplunkaplunkaplunkaplunka
I open the door the rest of the way and step outside.
I put up the hood of my jacket.
To avoid the rain.
But why am I avoiding it?
Didn't I just come outside to it?
I don't know.
I slop through the muddy yard
Trudging
Sliding
Nearly slipping.
I lean on the cherry tree.
It's strong, it doesn't mind the rain.
So why do I?
Aren't I strong?
Or is the rain stronger?
I don't know.
I look up at the tree.
It's growing taller every spring.
But so am I.
I reach up and begin to climb the tree.
The branches still support me.
I remember being little and climbing the tree.
I thought it was as tall as God.
I sit at the top of the tree.
I look around.
Where are all the people?
Don't they like the rain?
Don't they enjoy the water running down their cheeks?
Doesn't it remind them of crying?
I don't know.
A pull a small flower off the tree.
It's pink.
Pretty
Lovely
Beautifully made.
I toss the flower into the air.
It floats around, sinking towards the ground, then finds a place to rest.
Why does it fall down?
Doesn't it know that God is up?
Doesn't it know God?
Didn't God make it?
Doesn't it know it's unique?
I don't know.
I don't know a lot of things.
But I do know some things.
I know that I like the rain.
So I remove my hood.
I know that I can be strong like the tree.
So I stand up in its branches.
I know that I am unique like the flower.
So I make a funny face.
I know that God loves me.
So I shout it to the world.