When I was 6, I thought that rain was a natural phenomenon of life. It provided water to plants, animals and made the weather better. I saw it as a blessing, as if it ceased to exist, we would have died long ago. Now I’m older, but now my eyes cannot see this phenomenon in any other way.

Rain brings down water. So do our eyes. We weep when we are sad, so what if it’s the same for the sky? What if rain is the tears of the sky? We cry when we have had enough and can not hold the dam from breaking. Isn’t it the same for the sky? Too many vapors that its restraint broke. How ironic is it that our tears are the same size as raindrops? What if it’s the reincarnation of our tears, banging on the windows of the ones who caused them to come in the first place.

We cry when our mind is clouded with dark and deary emotions. Is it the same for the sky? That is has seen too much, given too much, seen too much that now it’s on the verge of breaking apart?

Some people say that when it rains, they feel at peace. How did they feel at peace with thunder? Lightning dividing the view in half, causing destruction. Is it the same with our brains? That when we have a moment it is like lightning in the sky, indicating our downfall. Giving us a silent warning that we need to stop. That we need to take a break like the sun takes when it rains?

Weathers were always a point of interest, especially the dark gloomy sky filled with innocent tears of the sky that we rejoice as rain. I never used to feel at peace with this environment, but as I grew, I understood that this is a part of me. A part of me distinguished for other people to admire and celebrate. What if it’s parts of other humans too? Humans who saw too much took too much and obviously felt too much. So much that the sky saddens at their sight. 

What if the sky sympathizes with them to bring them at ease. Nothing is hidden from the sky, even if we have roofs over our heads. People feel the need to cry under the open weather. Is it because they feel a sense of love and care from the sky? Like it’s looking down on them with teary eyes and red puffy noses, wanting to feel what they feel?

And then once its capacity is full, it cries mercilessly. Soft rains for anger and sadness. Storms for rage and exhaustion. It tries to throwback all the tears we lost on those who made us cry. I guess we will never truly know, all we can do is assume. 

I did not use to feel at ease with this weather, but now it feels like revenge taken, putting out deepest, most secret emotions on display so that the world sees how pitiless they actually are. Now when it rains, I am at ease, knowing there is something that feels what I feel.