Dreamer and Rain

 

When he awokened, he was churned to the sound of raindrops, dripping, one by one. Loud, as if magnified by light and movement, creating a vacuum around the drop. 

With each drop, light spilled through, that magnified the water, moving to the ripple and gleam against the puddle was the pebble of water flying downward through the sky, became one with the universe on it’s way down the eavespout and around the bend it sprayed and splashed as to no end.

In its beauty, raptured by light from the sun, it beamed as though the glory of the angels glorified deep down within, the night before, when the storm had passed, when no mortal dare gleam into the light of the sun for chance of staying away for so long- he woke and his eyes were leadened by the night and forcefully changed in dup-ed notion of separate light from awareness as he fast held sleep and dreamed of the morn of which came a series of reluctant noises as the water dripped, fast and steady until he focused on one raindrop.