Falling lightly, sounding like the soft beat of a Djembe, as it hits the ground. It gives life. A flower, slowly opening itself up, giving itself away to the cool droplets. The pitter patter of foot steps as people hurry to take shelter. The leaves reaching out to get as much as their thirsty hearts desire. The puddles forming for future puddle jumping. The road glistens with moisture and the rain, it slowly stops. People venture out in a rush. They do not observe the beads rolling off the leaves or the flower shining in the new born sun. No one stops to admire the life that was just acquired by the thirsty that surrounds them. They cannot see the roots ******* in as much as they can. They do not understand the gift of rain.