The rain falls, knowing not on whom. It falls equally, surrenders unconditionally. It bestows farms, crops, rivers, lakes. It bestows life. It blesses us with the rainbow and the colors of a new life. It stays, to fulfill.
I see the raindrops on my window. I put my hand out and feel them. It reminds me of all the happy moments of us together. The days spent endlessly on the roads, the rain accompanying our every memory. The smile stays, content.
The old eyes look at his dying land, he looks at the sky. The clouds tell him it will rain. The clouds cannot lie to him. He waits for until the dying sun. He feels the arrival on his forehead. He closes his eyes, and takes the name of God. His land shall live.
The children run. The waterfalls, streams and the smell of mud excite them. They play like there is no tomorrow. They get wet, splash mud and jump around. It’s the best way they like to see Mother Nature. They hope they can play till eternity.
The children tire and fall asleep, content with all the happy hours of joy. Suddenly, it thunders. It rains like never before. The shower of destruction. It continues to shatter and destroy. The houses disappear so do the smiles. Life ends.
Then humanity remembers, the one with the power of birth is also blessed with the power to kill, to end.
