"I love the sound of rain on the roof of a car, knowing you're inside, warm and dry" my father once said to me
"Until you get out," I responded, gazing into the night
"Until you get out," he confirmed.
And in that moment, on that rainy August night
I realized he was my car, keeping me dry from a world of rain
And at 19 I am starting to open the door,
Put my feet on the ground and try to keep them from getting wet
But home is always there
Whether I sit in the car and wait
or run outside, trying to beat the cloud from bottoming out
The world from bottoming out
To hell with metaphors
To similes and references
I don't need rain
Or an old camry
To describe how my father has always been there
To protect and shelter
And teach me to appreciate the little things
That you don't need much to be happy
And to work hard, earn that car that sits in your driveway
And lets you listen to the rain on the roof
And for a moment, just a moment
Time stands still
Like a raindrop descending from the clouds
And making its way all the way to the ground
Running down the windshield
Tracing the trail it leaves behind with my eyes
And while the world is waiting for that raindrop
I am just happy to sit and listen to the rain
With the man who taught me that when the rain does come
To sit in the car and listen to it with the people that you love.