I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds

My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts

I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me

I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes

I kept waiting for it to change

I kept waiting for it to change me

For it to wash away something deep inside me

I wanted it to wash away any hurt

Wash away the insecurities

Wash away the denial

Wash away the sins

Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love”

Wash away the scars

Wash away the memories

Wash away the impurities

Wash away

I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands

My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?”

The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love

The hands that can make me whole once more

As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum

I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?”

I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response

None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter

Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter

Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass

I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way

In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand

I looked at its tiny iceberg shape

I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart

A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile

I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah

Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk

The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace

This was her response

Nothing may be real but the rain

In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves

To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free

This was my answer

That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current

This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart

I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality

It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded

I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself

I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me,

“Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?”

The rain answered,

“Yes”.