A piece of prose and a poem that I wrote the same day, based on the same thing – an absolute downpour outside my window.
”The sky darkened, and the clouds gathered. A heaviness hung in the air, as if the weight of it would cause it to fall at any moment. She knew how it felt. Her heart had the same overbearing density that the sky was showing. The clouds represented her worries, and the darkness her fear of the unknown. Everything had got too much and she was at breaking point. Work was everything she despised, whilst love was non-existent, and this made her question her faith. Why was everything against her? Nothing seemed to make sense, or even make her smile. A breakdown was not far away.
As those first few drops started to fall, and the ground darkened with rain, she felt some sort of release. The gates had opened and her emotions were spilling out over the floor. The pain, the hurt, the loneliness, the fear; all conveyed through one simple motion as the view was obscured by a blurry mist. She couldn’t tell if it was outside the window or covering her eyes.
The rain kept pouring, until the path was now a stream. But she did not match its efforts. Something had changed within her. Her faith had returned. Not a faith in God, nor a spirit way above, but the spirit of freedom she always went back to. Her release. A way of shutting off the real world, becoming completely engrossed in herself and her beliefs.
She stepped out into the unknown, and let the rain soak through her clothes. It didn’t take long as she was only in her nightdress. She stood there dripping, looking up to the skies and allowed the atmosphere to engulf her completely. She ignored everything around her: the strange looks, the cars splashing through the gutters, the complaining gulls; all that she heard was the monotonous gushing of the rain and the continual pounding of her heart.
Slowly those sounds built up a beat she couldn’t resist. Her neck tilted to one side, her arms started to move and the rhythm of her faith increased in strengh. She knew things would improve as long as she believed. If she believed and let herself go she could achieve anything. She twirled on the spot. The rain swirled at her feet, making patterns that were free and true. Her nightdress span out, spraying droplets of water on all sides. But she didn’t care. One thing led to another and soon she was moving and twisting in all directions, feeling the beat of nature’s music, no matter the situation. The rain still poured, but now it represented her worries as they ran down the drain. Her faith had pulled her through.
Soon she was exhausted. Her energies had run low. The sky began to lighten and the rain ceased to pour. She became aware or her surroundings and wondered how long she had been there. She was suddenly self conscious; of being outside, or being drenched to the bone and of being so under-dressed. She hurried inside and wrapped herself in a blanket. Although the same person, she was changed, altered in some way. Dancing had been her escape; dancing in the rain.”
Although the rain falls
And you are soaked to the skin,
Dance ’til you’re drenched.
Nothing else matters.
Dancing in the rain
Takes me away from myself
Takes me away from the world
And takes me where I want to be.
I dance to be.
I live to dance.
The rain is falling
But still I dance.
Free to be me.”
(Both written 29.04.12)