The rain reveals
The sewer lines
Tired of being invisible,
The rats, its undesired inhabitants,
The worms drowning on the soil,
Cockroaches in despair.

The rain reveals
What was hidden
But was there all the time.
What wasn't to be seen,
The undergrounds of a life
Exposed to appearances and nothing more.

The rain reveals
The superficiality
Of empty plastics,
The inherent lightness of lack of content,
The inextinguishability of the bottles,
Trails of the inevitable return to the sea.

The rain reveals
Our blurred vision,
Our need of a shelter,
Our frail grit
That fades with thunders,
Our discomfort aversion,
Our windows to disconnect the world.

The rain reveals
The violence of the beauty,
The victory of the unpredictable,
The animal and amoral cruelty
That lays over the homeless
And the human and immoral cruelty
Of us, who feel only pity.

The rain reveals
And nothing more.
Reveal itself and, thus, exposes,
But it isn't what it's here for.
It comes, simply, and ends.
It is and desires nothing,
Has no purpose nor role.

It happens by getting heavy
And crumbles as it can.
It happens for being unbearable.
It happens for it  was sea once
And sea it urges to be.

It could be anything but water
But chose to be what it could choose
To be solid, gas or liquid.

The rain reveals
That the strength
Is in transformations and movements:
All roots shall succumb.